


Tomie: Obsession

by LucasGRivers



Category: Junji Ito, Tomie - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, F/M, Gore, Horror, Junji Ito - Freeform, Mind Control, Murder, Mystery, Rape, Sexual Assault, Suicide, Supernatural Elements, Torture, tomie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucasGRivers/pseuds/LucasGRivers
Summary: Power couple Jennifer Wallace and Jason Arthur enter the new school year with big dreams of small town greatness. Those dreams turn into nightmares with the arrival of a mysterious new student, Tomie Kawakami. Poison and Intoxicant, Victim and Victimizer, Powerful and Powerless; Tomie is a force of nature possessing an unnatural beauty and the ability to control men. Jen won’t sit back and watch as suicide, murder and violence unravels the social fabric of her school. She puts together a group of like minded students to investigate this dangerous new comer. A sense of urgency energizes her campaign to end Tomie’s budding reign of terror when she takes a special interest in Jason.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work contains graphic depictions of violence, murder, gore, and rape. Please don't read if you are sensitive to these topics. To avoid spoilers I will not be putting warnings on individual chapters so let this serve as your first and only warning.

Tomie was a vision in black. Straight ebony hair framed her perfectly symmetrical face. Thin red lips aligned into a flirty partial smile under piercing eyes. Every eye in the funeral parlor was on her as she moved down the line of mourners in a Versaci gown like a model strutting the red carpet.

Scott stared at her from his place in the line. His breath pulled from his chest towards her like oxygen being drawn to a fire. His heart thundered in his chest. He didn’t notice the woman pulling on his arm.

“Did you hear me,” she accused him loud enough to break away his attention. His girlfriend, Janice, red eyed exhausted stood at his side.

“I was just thinking about John. I can’t believe he died,” said Scott.

“Died,” fumed Janice, “He didn’t just die, he was fucking murdered Scott. Don’t…” The words faded out of his hearing as he resumed staring at Tomie. “Oh my God, You’re doing it again,” she broke into his consciousness.

“Doing what?” he said.

“You’re thinking about her again. Unbelievable. My brother’s slut girlfriend’s walking around his funeral like Scarlet fucking O’Hara at a ball and my boyfriend can’t even give me the decency to not daydream about fucking her.”

“Can we not do this again. Not now. He was my best friend long before he dated her and long before I knew you,” said Scott.

“Scott, Janice, I’m so sorry for your loss,” said Tomie in a soft, sweet voice.

“Uh, huh,” said Scott through a big, dopey smile.

“Thank you,” said Janice in a flat, lifeless tone.

Tomie took up Scott’s hands. “You poor thing,” she said. She leaned into him, pressing his hands into her breasts while pecking him on the cheek. Janice’s expression curdled into a grimace. Janice thought she saw Tomie’s face transform into an unnatural, hideous smile for just an instant before pulling away.

~~~~~~~~

“Jesus Christ Jan, what the fuck was that,” yelled Scott as he squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “How can you say stuff like that in front of everyone we know? My parents, your parents, all of our friends.” Janice sat in the passenger seat crying.

“Did I say something that wasn’t true,” she finally squeaked out. Scott sat in stunned silence for much longer than an innocent man should have.

“How about all of it,” he said.

~~~~~~~~

Tomie sat at her 350 year old plain red cedar desk and matching chair with a red nail polish bottle in her hand. She opened the polish bottle as her phone rang.

“Hello, Scott,” she said as she dipped the brush into the paint bottle.

“Tomie,” choked out the voice, “I need you, I want you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said as she painted her pinky nail and blew on it.

“Why are you being like this? Didn’t I do everything you wanted me to do,” asked Scott. “You have to remember that girl in the movie theater parking lot. She called you a stupid slut; I slit that pig’s throat. The homeless guy by the 7-11 who stuck his hand up your skirt. I beat him so hard I broke 2 fingers. And what about John? When you said you grew tired of him and he wouldn’t let go? I strangled him while you watched. He just stared at you and smiled. Don’t you remember? I did it all for you.”

“Was it for me or was it for you,” asked Tomie.

“What do I have to do to prove that I love you,” asked Scott.

“Kill yourself,” she said as she painted another nail.

“Anything you want, my love,” he said as he hung up the phone. Tomie painted her last nail.

~~~~~~~~

Mrs Clairemont found something very unsettling about her first period English class; a general gloom hung about the room like a toxic fog. Classrooms usually had some degree of gender segregation when the students picked their own seats but Mrs Clairemont had never seen a classroom like this one. Every boy sat in the rows closest to the windows and every girl by the door but Tomie who sat in the middle of the boy’s rows. Mrs Clairemont understood why some boys drew themselves to her. She was the prettiest girl in school, maybe even the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, but nothing could explain the level of attention she received from the class’s men. Class always started late as she had to practically drag some of the men away from Tomie’s desk.

She flipped through a densely highlighted paperback before shutting it.

“As some of you may have heard, we lost another classmate. Scott took his own life. No one knows exactly what leads someone to take their own life but he was very good friends with John. Suicide’s never the right option. I want everyone to know we’ve hired additional counselors who are available to talk with you at any time about anything. We’ll be having an assembly this afternoon to talk about suicide prevention, warning signs and what you can do to help.” Mrs Clairemont looked at Janice’s empty seat.

The classroom door swung open and Janice with her hair in a frizzy pony tail wearing an oversized men’s sweatshirt stood at the entrance. “You fucking bitch,” she yelled staring at Tomie. She walked towards Tomie who remained quietly smiling as the whole class turned towards her. “I heard you, every fucking word.” A 6’2” 220 pound bruiser from the football team stood to intercept her.

“Everyone, sit down! Janice hallway, now,” said Mrs Clairemont.

“He couldn’t even leave before he called you,” The football player grabbed her by the shoulders. He pushed her away and she flew to the ground, splitting her forehead open.

“Edward! Janice! Everyone!” Janice staggered back to her feet.

“He called you, from my porch. I could hear it all.” Edward put his hands out to intercept Janice again.

“It’s ok, let’s hear what she has to say” said Tomie. Edward relented and Janice approached Tomie. Janice stuck her finger in her face.

“He killed Gladyss and John for you .”

“Scott was clearly not well,” said Tomie, “you should’ve been...” Tomie didn’t see Janice pull the pistol from her pocket until the barrel shot up through her periphery, stopping inches from her face. The bullet cracked open with a pop loud enough to shake the gun from Janice’s hand. Skull fragments and a mist of brain and blood shot out of the back of Tomie’s head. Janice collapsed to the floor as the class sat in stunned silence.


	2. The New Girl

Late summer days in Chesterfield were Jen’s favorite. The temperature was still high but mid summer’s intolerable humidty gave way to a dry heat she quite enjoyed. The summer routine of double sessions and weight room visits that occupied Jason’s time fell into a brief respite just before school started again. She laid with her head in his lap on a wooden bench suspended by chains on her front porch. He gently rocked the swing while running his fingers through her hair. A strong male voice emanated through the house and out the windows from an old AM radio in the living room.

“So much for our peace and quiet,” said Jen. Jason looked down at her, “Do you want to get out of here?” They stood and walked to the property’s edge holding hands. Jen always felt like they were an odd looking couple. At five foot six she wasn’t anyone’s definition of a short woman but Jason towered over her at six foot three.

Dirt roads stretched out miles through thinly populated grasslands and corn fields. Walking on a public road was an act of privacy, a way to get away from the prying eyes and probing ears of the small town gossip mill. Drainage ditches lined the road’s edges followed by green corn stalk walls that gave the road the feeling of walking down a large, ceilingless hall way.

Moss speckled the patched roof of the old Dahmer place, a single wide trailer sitting on cinder-blocks in knee high grass. A gutter hung to the side, half fallen to the ground. A thick dirt layer frosted the front windows.

A moving truck with a large rattle-snake decale idled in the dirt driveway with its rear gate facing the home.

“I didn’t know we were getting new neighbors,” said Jen. Moving day in Chesterfield was usually an event. People talked about the new neighbors for weeks before they ever showed. People made it a point to drive past the soon to be purchased house. Every old timer in town told stories about the past owners. When the Durhams sold their place last year, Jen’s grandfather told her a story of when old Jeb Durham got so drunk he lit half his field on fire and nearly burned down his house. And that time Missy Durham dropped a whole apple cobbler on the First Methodist’s rectory floor and was so embarrassed she didn’t show her face again for a whole month.

A svelte, cosmopolitan Asian woman around her age came around the truck’s back. She had movie star beauty that seemed more at home in Beverly Hills or the cover of Vogue than in this rundown prairie town. She smiled, and waved. Jen felt a slight chill and Jason’s heart skipped a beat.

~~~~~~~~

Wendy and Jen had been friends since they met at the Pentecostal Sunday school. Jen was the bright eyed, bushy tailed know-it-all; a good girl who’s primary drive in life was to impress adults. Wendy was the sailor mouthed smart ass that the old teacher feared to engage for what she would say. Jen’s desire to please adults was matched by Wendy’s desire to shock them. They had an oil and water relationship at first, the quiet Jen always watching hurricane Wendy blow into every situation. Jen’s grandfather considered her a bad influence. It took hims years to finally come around to her.

“Did you hear about the new girl,” asked Jen over her cell.

“Oh, my god its the only thing I hear about,” said Wendy, “It’s like, shut up already.”

“She’s really pretty,” said Jen, “We saw her by the old Dahmer place.”

“I mean it, just shut up. I’m so sick of everyone talking about how hot she is,” said Wendy.

~~~~~~~~

Jen appreciated any opportunity to dress up regardless of how trivial. The first day of school provided her with one such opportunity. She was up well before the sun, taking a shower, putting on her best eyeliner, mascara and blush, fixing her hair, squeezing, lifting, and flattening everything she could. She wore her best fitting jeans, only designer shirt, black pumps and trendy but smart clutch handbag. She had every reason to believe this was her year; homecoming queen, prom queen, class president. She had already won class president the spring before in a landslide. Everything else was within her grasp and she wanted everyone to know she was going to take it.

Jen’s first period teacher, a matronly old women in a severe green sweater, stood at the front of the classroom with the girl from the Dahmer house. She wore a pleated black skirt, a colared white shirt with a sweater tied around her waist and her hair pushed back under a head band. She looked more like mummy and daddy were going to take her to the club for a round of tennis before the yacht races than a country student on a day where it was 100 degrees in the shade.

“This is Tomie,” said the teacher, “she’s new here and I would like a volunteer to show her around.” Every boy in the class shot their hands into the air. Typical, Jen thought. “How about you Jen?”

Jen rose from her seat. The teacher scribbled something onto a orange paper square before handing it to her as she walked out the door. Tomie walked with a grace that made her seem as though she floated.

“These are the Senior lockers,” said Jen, “First floor right after you enter the building. Go to the main office and they’ll give you a number and combo.”

“You’re pretty,” said Tomie, “You don’t want to be trapped in this little no where town like them.”

“Why would you say that, I love it here,” Jen felt a little unsettled that a complete stranger could see so clearly through her to a truth that she she hid from everyone.

“My mistake,” she said.

“I saw you, the other day, walking by the old Dahmer house. You live right next to me.”

“Oh,” she said, “You walk places? How quaint.”

~~~~~~~~

“I love your new hair,” said Jen. Wendy sat at a long white folding lunch table with Jen and Jason in the make shift cafeteria in the gym. Wendy’s flat chest and athletic, boyish frame contrasted with a natural beauty hidden behind excessive facial piercings and a short bob dyed bright blue.

“Yeah, very Queen of the Smurfs,” said Jason.

“Shut it, X-Y,” said Wendy. Jason and Wendy had long known each other through the Jen connection. They developed a sibling rivalry of sorts from jockeying for her attention.

“Did either of you meet the new girl,” asked Jen. Tomie sat with a fat, pimple covered kid with thick glasses and hair greased down by sweat. He animatedly talked while Tomie listened quietly.

“No,” said Wendy, “but I hear she’s a raging bitch.”

“She can’t be too bad,” broke in Jason, “if she’s willing to entertain what ever verbal diarrhea Eugene’s dumping on her. Boy’s nothing but conspiracy theories and cartoon titties.”

“I got to walk her around the school. She wasn’t exactly what I would call nice. She has a pretty big wall up,” said Jen.

“Well no shit,” said Wendy, “Look at her. What fucking golf course did she think she was going to today?”

“A constitutional through the quad with Buffy and Minny,” said Jason.

“Enough guys, come on. Its hard going to a new place, with new people. Maybe yall need to give her a chance.”

“Give her a chance? Maybe Miss Pretty Pretty Princess needs to give us a fucking chance.”

“Well I am going to say hi,” Jen swung her leg over the table bench and walked over. Wendy and Jason followed.

“Hi Tomie, do you mind if I join you?” Tomie looked past Jen, to Jason. Jen looked over her shoulder at him. She could feel small sparks of energy darting between the two and immediately regretted her decision to bring him. Jason sat next to Eugene followed by Wendy. Jen sat next to Tomie.

“Hi Jen, so nice to see you again,” said Tomie.

“But we were talking,” huffed out Eugene.

“Eugene, don’t be rude,” said Tomie

“Sorry mam.” Jen didn’t know much about Eugene outside of reputation. He was known among the girls as that fat lonely guy with bad hygiene who mostly kept to himself, except when the opportunity presented itself to stare down your shirt. Jen found him to be especially pitiable. Finding the nerve to talk to Tomie must have been quite the triumph for him.

“How do you like it here,” said Jason.

“I’m meeting so many wonderful people,” said Tomie as she locked eyes with Jason. Eugene slumped further. Jen regretted the decision even more.

~~~~~~~~

Hina Sato laid her arm across her ballooning baby bump while talking to Emily Bland. Her husband Jin manned the pellet feed smoker grill possessed by a glee that only came when cooking. Their Greek revival home was the nicest in Chesterfield; the red metal roof, white columned porch and balcony, salt water swimming pool, and lush landscaping made the two story brick behemoth the envy of Chesterfield. Jin, the child of Japanese immigrants who ran a laundry mat, worked hard to become chief of surgery at McKinnely County Regional Hospital. Hina also worked at Mckinley Regional as the chief Anesthesiologist. Their friends thought they were crazy for building their home in the sprawling poverty stricken Chesterfield instead of the trendy gated communities in Springfield. Jin believed his experience growing up poor outside LA’s pocket of extreme wealth gave him a hunger he wanted to instill in his daughter Chloe that growing up in the insular private school scene wouldn’t provide. Hina didn’t like the idea at first but came to appreciate the privacy and isolation of living on ten acres.

Chloe Sato played Uno with her boyfriend Roger and best friend Elizabeth ‘Beth’ Bland on the rear patio by the pool. Elizabeth’s mother worked with the Satos and was the only other hospital employee living in Chesterfield. Chloe and Elizabeth met freshman at the school newspaper. Chloe worked harder than most students, tutors, prep classes and practice tests. The newspaper acted as her get away from the exacting demands of her parents who expected only perfection from her.

Beth’s mother’s favorite phrase was “her eye’s are bigger than her stomach.” She thought she was commenting on Beth’s ambitious nature but Beth didn’t take it that way. She took on hard projects that she often failed to complete. She dropped out of glee cub and couldn’t make the honors society. She couldn’t hack it in ballet, cheer leading, or dance. She was the worst player in chess club and never showed up. In other words, she was a screw up, as her mother so unintentionally liked to point out. The school newspaper was the only thing she ever did that stuck. She loved photography and, in her own humble estimation, had a good eye for it.

Roger failed to meet Chloe’s parents exacting requirements in a mate. He started on the football team but at five foot nine and one hundred sixty pounds he had no future in the game. He used his well above average intelligence to skate by in school with mediocre grades. Gold still in the mine, as her father liked to say. His family had neither wealth, power nor influence. And most of all, he was white. They had meet freshman year during lunch where an obviously crushing Roger followed her around. She found it endearing and pathetic and had trouble deciding what she wanted to do about his advances. She didn’t give him a shot until Elizabeth joined them and he took an interest in her after months of unreciprocated interest.

“Has anyone met the new girl,’’ said Chloe playing a green seven. No one was happier with the arrival of Tomie than her. She had gotten used to being the only Asian person in their grade. They were already seniors but better late than never she thought.

“Yeah, what a fox,” said Roger as he played a reverse card. He skipped a beat then had that deer in headlights look he got when realizing he said or did something incredibly stupid. Chloe deflated as she stared daggers at him.

“Do you think its a boy or girl,” asked Beth hoping to change the subject before one of their heated arguments broke out at the table. Chloe’s parents had no intention of having another child, as far as she knew. They got careless or contraception failed. They were taking it in stride with the excitement of people finally doing something they never got around to but always wanted. Chloe hoped for a baby sister but already knew it was a boy.

~~~~~~~~

  
“Come on Babe,” said Jason as he gently rocked the porch swing, “I can’t account for every girl that wants to jump my bones and its not fair for you to make me try.”

“It’s not you, it’s her. There’s something off about her, she gives me the creeps. Not in a harmless, pathetic way like Eugene but a menacing way. I’m really trying to give her a shot.” Jen felt the unmistakable cloud of jealousy falling on her opinion of Tomie.

“You don’t have to like everyone or make everyone like you.”


	3. Home Coming

Kyle Castle held the year’s first team diner in his back yard. Everyone brought their own dishes to the pot luck buffet. The contributions sat on a table by the rear entrance to his trailer. A retractable awning covered in twinkling Christmas lights shaded the yard just behind the rear exit. The yard smelled like a clogged septic struggling to keep up with the sudden increased load. White folding tables and orange metal chairs sat in rows in the grass. The team had no official segregation by duties but each player sat with their respective units. Jason sat at the offense’s table next to his limp armed, undersized quarterback that could barely throw the ball past the line of scrimmage. Private schools relentlessly pursued Jason and his parents thought they would improve his college prospects but he loved Jen and wanted to stay by her. The team may not have been destined for All American honors but all his friends were there and he was happy with the decision.

Coach Brady, a young man in his early thirties, seemed unable to find a winning season. He was optimistic this was his year. Jason would command double coverage every play and that would open up the middle for their running game. Kyle was a one man bulldozer centering the defensive line. Coach Brady dropped car keys in front of Jason.

“Can you get the projector for me,” he asked him. Coach liked to cap off team diners with film sessions for the upcoming game. Jason was good friends with Kyle and felt comfortable cutting through the dingy trailer to the driveway. Kyle’s mom sat on a wooden rocking chair in the dead grass outside the trailer’s entrance. She wore a pleated skirt that rode up too high revealing the deep blue veins, cellulose and stretch marks of her inner thighs. A muffin top poured over her skirt top, visible under a shirt two sizes too small. She puffed on a cigarette but Jason could still smell the whiskey from several feet away.

“Hi Mrs Castle,” said Jason. She pulled the cigarette from her mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Minnie,” said Mrs Castle.

“Did you know, Jason, that when I was your age I was the cheer captain? We were the pride and joy of Chesterfield High, lord knows that god awful football team wasn’t. I was quite the young lady back then,” she said before taking another drag. Jason didn’t know how to respond so he stood silently. “ I even got an offer to cheer for Baylor. I had my pick of the boys, you can bet your ass on that. I couldn’t walk into a room without turning every head back then, if you could believe that. College, now that was a hoot. I must have had fifty boyfriends that first year alone.” Jason smiled while thinking over the most polite way to excuse himself to finish getting the projector. “Why don’t you come over here and talk. I don’t need to talk to the whole team.” Jason walked over and stopped by the rocker. “See isn’t that much nicer,” she said as she placed her hand into his crotch. His eyes shot open and his jaw slacked a little.

“Minerva Castle,” said Coach Brady from the trailer’s end. He grew impatient waiting for Jason and wanted to see what the hold up was. “Get your hands off of him.” Coach must not have realized how loud he was as the football team came around the bend to see Kyle’s mother with her hand buried into Jason’s jeans. Kyle stood amid the crowd of boys, face beat red.

~~~~~~~~

Jason pushed around spaghetti in a watery tomato sauce that leaked through the thin paper plate onto an orange plastic tray. He was on a strict diet to help maximize development for his football career. He missed eating bread and pasta; he should have bought a salad, fruit maybe some chicken. Even with his cravings and moment of weakness, he couldn’t bring himself to eat this waterlogged mess.

“You going to eat that,” asked Wendy. Jason put his plastic fork on the pile.

“Don’t you need to eat for the big game,” Jen sat next to him wearing his white away Jersey. Jason was the star wide receiver on the football team. He was expected to carry the team on his shoulders to their first state title in fifty years. The local news paper was a buzz about the division one schools sending scouts to watch him play. A full page article in the sports section of the Tri-Field Gazette outlined all the records he was expected to break that year.

“I don’t need food poisoning,” he said. He grabbed an apple off her tray and bit into it before she could say anything.

Tomie walked by followed by Eugene carrying her backpack. The three tall, skinny boys of the AV club followed behind him. Tomie turned her head to keep an eye on Jason as she walked by. Jen waved and Tomie looked away without recognizing her.

“God, I can’t stand that bitch,” said Wendy.

“God I can’t stand women,” said Jason. “Everything’s a threat to your precious pecking order. A month ago you wouldn’t have pissed on any of them to put out a fire but now that Tomie’s collecting nerds like baseball cards you’re jealous.” Jason stood with his tray. “We have film during lunch, I have to go.” He leaned down and kissed Jen then walked off.

“I didn’t imagine that right? You waved and she totally blew you off.”

“Maybe she didn’t see me,” said Jen. She didn’t believe those words herself but didn’t want to seem judgy. She tried to mask the hurt from Tomie not reciprocating the effort she put into making her feel accepted.

“Bull shit,” said Wendy. “She’s got her eyes on Jason.” Tomie sat at a table surrounded by the four men looking ahead in silence as they all talked to her at once.

~~~~~~~~

Wendy’s tattooed long haul trucker father, Bruce, was a bear of a man, a Teddy Bear. The dining set chair creaked under his muscular but well padded 320 pound frame. His bald head, flowing beard and full length sleeve tattoos intimidated Jen the first time she met him but his constant smiling and jolly demeanor were the furthest thing from scary. She only feared him one time; when the high school suspended Wendy’s brother Steve for bringing his father’s guns to school. The man thundered around the house, fire shooting out of his mouth and eyes, or so it seemed to the 12 year old Jen.

Wendy absolutely adored the man despite being away 75% of the month. He always returned with a present and a story, usually a funny anecdote about something he saw in a truck stop at night. Wendy didn’t think an eight year old knowing about glory holes was unusual until she had diner at Jen’s house and she retold one of her dad’s stories. She didn’t know grown men could turn that color and she wasn’t allowed back for a long time.

“How’s Jason doing,” asked Bruce as he crowded over his plate like a prisoner. “I got home just in time to catch the game with Max. 300 yards carrying two people on his back, four touchdowns. Boys a beast.”

“Better be careful, Jen, I think Bruce is turning gay for Jason,” said Max. Maxine Miller was a retired petty officer with the army national guard turned recruiter. She always felt a need to prove how tough she was on the job and that competitiveness leaked into her marriage and parenting. Bruce was the softy that let them eat candy before diner or brought them meals after Max sent them to bed without diner. Wendy understood that her mother had a very dry sense of humor that included teasing but she found the gay jokes tasteless.

“Mom, common,” said Wendy. She was protective of her friends and family, she hated seeing people disparage them even in jest. Jen had on her I-don’t-know-what-to-do-so-I’ll-just-smile smile.

“Speaking of boyfriends, when are you going to get one,” said Max.

“When they start acting more like girls,” said Wendy.

Heavy footfalls beat their way up the basement stairs. Army boots squeaked across the kitchen’s linoleum floor before a college aged man in black jeans and black t-shirt emerged from the kitchen. The man sat across from Jen and Wendy.

“So nice of you to be on time for your father’s welcome home diner,” said Max. Steve ignored her, choosing to spoon out a plate of mashed potatoes instead.

“How’s the music going, son,” asked Bruce. Steve just shrugged his shoulders and dug into the white mound.

~~~~~~~~

Students trying out for homecoming king and queen received permission to set up tables outside the main entrance before school ended. A table cloth with the school’s colors of black and red covered Jen’s table. A tri-fold foam board plastered with pictures of Jen and Jason sat in the middle. One fold had pictures of Jen siting in student government meetings, first as the secretary then treasurer. Pictures of her working at a soup kitchen handing out turkey on Thanksgiving. Pictures of her tutoring kids through the Big Sisters program. Jason’s side was pictures of him playing football with one prominent picture of him shirtless doing curls. “For the ladies,” he explained to her. The center panel held a large University of Miami logo amid pictures of the happy couple hugging at various locations. Jen wasn’t thrilled at the idea of going to Miami but they were most aggressively scouting Jason and he said that’s where he’s going.

Flyers with reasons to vote for Jen and Jason sat on the table next to a bowl of lolipops with stickers that said their names. Jen wore a red cocktail dress with a black shoulder wrap holding flyers.

The only other table had a poster board that read “Tomie” in big black letters with nothing else. Eugene and the 3 AV club members divided a stack of papers.

Eugene shoved a flyer into Jen’s hands. “Vote for Tomie,” he said before walking away. The flyer only said “Tomie” in big letters.

~~~~~~~~

Wendy was president of the Homecoming committee. She typically eschewed anything that could be misinterpreted as school spirit but loved organizing parties and the committee provided one of the precious few times she could indulge. Veronica, or Verney as she liked to be called, acted as Wendy’s second in command. Verney was a slightly overweight girl with a mousy face who liked wearing Khakis and 90s Americana T-Shirts.

“That’s the last one,” said Wendy as she placed a sheet of paper into a folder pregnant with sheets. “What’s the final count?”

“Jason Arthur got 117 and Eugene Whitmer 5.” Wendy copied the information onto the official tally sheet. “Jenifer Wallace 83 and Tomie Kawakami 39.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” said Wendy.

~~~~~~~~

The Chesterfield Broncos had two wins and zero losses. The Broncos dominated both teams including the heavily favored Springfield Calvary so why was Jason so worried about his team. Jason sensed a creeping apathy within the ranks. Run throughs were supposed to be easy drills, a reward for winning the week before. Defenders in helmets with no shoulder pads held heavy bags on the line with backs holding foam shields. The offense walked through plays while the defenders mocked defensive schemes until an offensive player placed a hand on them and they were considered blocked. Yet the offensive line couldn’t performance simple scoop blocks and linebackers were free releasing into the backfield. Roger tripped over his feet on a sweep play and ended face first in the dirt. A pitch bounced right off his chest and sailed into the linemen. The starting corner in front of Jason wasn’t following him up the field.

Jason lined up behind the tight end off the line. The quarterback audibled for Jason and he walked to his position behind the quarterback in shotgun. The quarterback audibled again and the center snapped the ball. Jason turned and walked through his sweep when Kyle came barreling through the offensive line, connecting with the slow moving Jason, plowing him into the ground. Jason felt the wind knock out of him as he ate the field, rolling around gasping. Coach Brady threw his clipboard and cursed.

~~~~~~~~

“Wow,” said Jen, partially excited to have won the coveted position, partially devastated Jason got so many more votes than her. The results wouldn’t be made public until the Homecoming dance but Wendy couldn’t wait to give her friends the good news and Jen couldn’t wait to hear it.

“I thought you would be more excited,” said Jason.

“No, I am its awesome,” said Jen. “Here take our picture.” Jen handed Wendy her cell phone. Jen and Jason embraced, leaning against a desk in the front row. Wendy snapped the picture and handed the phone back. Tomie sat behind them in the bottom left frame with a book covering her head. Jen looked at Tomie who watched her from around the book.

“Congratulations,” said Tomie as Jen walked past her desk. “I hope you’re the best queen you could be.”

~~~~~~~~

“What does that even mean, the best I could be,” said Jen. Was she over reacting again, maybe Tomie was happy for her in her own way.

“It means she’s a jealous bitch,” said Wendy. Tomie’s lunch group expanded to seven. The three tall and muscular new boys were starters on the football team. Eugene, who didn’t seem to mind the addition of the AV club, looked absolutely miserable.

“Poor Eugene,” said Jen. Eugene looked a strong breeze away from breaking into tears. He had worked up the nerve to befriend Tomie and now it was all slipping away.

“Just a typical leg humping neanderthal,” said Wendy, “thinks he can own a woman just by claiming her.”

A forth footballer walked over and said something to Eugene sitting on Tomie’s right. Eugene looked at the hulking ox of a man towering over him. His shoulder and neck muscles rippled into thick knotted cords, a barely distinguishable mass of flesh.

“No,” screamed Eugene, his shrill panicked voice cut through the busy lunchroom’s chatter and rippled around the room. All the eyes in the lunchroom turned to the table. The man lifted Eugene out of his seat by his arm and threw him to the ground. He poured Eugene’s lunch onto him before dropping the tray on the sprawled out boy. He took the seat next to Tomie.

Eugene rose to his feet with the hard plastic tray in his hands. Kyle groaned when the tray connected with the footballer’s head. A small red line formed on his rear hairline where the tray tore flesh. Eugene swung again, this time connecting flat to his shoulders and back. The stunned man snapped out of his shock and jumped to his feet, climbing out of the bench as Eugene wound up for a third blow. He caught the blow with his right fore arm as he grabbed Eugene’s collar. Eugene’s nose crumpled under the man’s fist. Blood exploded out of his face like a blockbuster in a jar of strawberry jam. His head flopped uselessly in place. The man’s fist connected with his bottom jaw. Broken teeth riding a blood vomit spewed out of his mouth. Jen could hear the jaw cracking from her seat.

“Jesus Christ Kyle,” said Jason as he jumped to his feet, “What are you doing?” Kyle looked at Jason before letting go of Eugene’s collar. His lifeless body dropped to the floor.

Jen felt chills watching Tomie smile: not her usual sarcastic smirking or polite gesture but a real, ear to ear expression of joy.

~~~~~~~~

Kyle was the second best player on the team. If Jason was the anchor of the offense, Kyle was the star on defense. He was skinny for a nose guard but made up for his lack of size with raw power and viciousness. Known as much for drawing flags as sacking quarterbacks, Kyle was a problem on and off the field. It was understandable to Jen, he came from a troubled home living under the abusive thumb of his drunken single mother.

“What’s going to happen to Kyle,” asked Jen.

“He’s been suspended. Coach said hes going to miss the rest of the season,” responded Jason.

“That’s it? No Charges? Eugene’s in the hospital right now, god knows for how long and the man who put him there missed a week of school and is off the team,” said Jen. As much as she sympathized with Kyle, there was no excuse for what he did to Eugene.

“They’re calling it a fight. I hear people saying Eugene started it,” said Jason.

Tomie started it, Jen thought. She didn’t know if it was overt or by inspiration, but she was sure this only happened because of Tomie. Tomie seemed to bring with her a dark cloud that warped and twisted every man around her. “How do you feel.”

“We lost our best tackler and the anchor of our defensive line, so not great.” That’s not what she meant.

~~~~~~~~

Mrs Green never supported disciplining students unless it was absolutely necessary. She believed firmly in two principles, boys will be boys and words can’t harm anyone. She had seen first hand too many times how labeling someone a “troubled youth” became a self fulfilling prophecy. But yet here she was sitting in Principal Stevenson’s drab 1970s office that stunk like cigarette smoke to talk about suspending a boy for words he wrote. Principal Stevenson chewed the end of a pencil as he flipped through papers, reading the sections highlighted by Mrs Green.

“Jesus,” he said as he closed the packet. “Robbie wrote this, ‘The Rape of Tomie,’” Known for being quiet and reserved, almost to a fault, Robbie Schultz was the class valedictorian, straight As since Kindergarten and perfect attendance. One of the few kids Principal Stevenson thought was going places.

He fliped open the title page. “Tomie, beautiful Tomie. I want to peel off your skin and eat the luscious fruit underneath…” He flipped the page, “tear your eyes out and make love to you as crimson tears pool...” he fliped the page again, “orgasm together as your mortal breath escapes your body.”

“Pages and pages of this,” said Mrs Green.

“I should have retired this year. Ethel, that woman will be the death of me, said you won’t know what to do with yourself. I don’t even know this school anymore,” he said pulling a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray out of his desk. “Do you want one?” Mrs Green nodded no. “First Kyle, now this. You know we had a real chance at taking state this year?”

“You know, Eugene had a real shot at not eating through a straw for the rest of his life.”

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, but sheep know not to attack bears. Boy didn't have the sense God gave a billy goat. Two lives gone, just like that, all over a stupid girl.”

~~~~~~~~

Jen met Wendy at the gym’s entrance. Jen with subtle but complimentary make up wore a full length blue gown and her hair up in a bun. Wendy wore a blue gown that matched her hair.

Wendy was a miracle worker; using a small budget, an employee discount at a crafts shop and a pound of hard work turned the gym into a winter wonderland. White streamers with silk snow flakes hung off the ceiling. A bucking bronco ice sculpture sat in the middle of the dance floor. A white plastic material resembling ice in the dim lighting surrounded the floor by the statue. Fake snow patches speckled around the gym. Hand drawn portraits and photographs of Chesterfield in the winter lined the walls.

“Oh my god. Wendy, this is so beautiful” Jen hung off of Jason’s tuxedoed arm.

“Yeah Wendy, I didn’t know you had talent,” said Jason.

“Fuck you too, future sperm donor,” said Wendy.

“But seriously, this is Amazing,” said Jason. Mrs Green approached the three from her perch at the front door.

“You look lovely tonight Jen,” she said. She looked around then held her hand to her mouth, “And congratulations.”

“Ladies and Gentleman,” yelled a short, skinny boy at the entrance to the gym. “We present to you our beloved, Tomie.” Two men pushed open the double doors. Tomie struted into the gym on black heels wearing a black cocktail dress with a slit so high her inner thigh and panties were visible. Tomie’s cleavage popped out of a super low cut neck line. A crystal covered silver tiara sparkled in her hair.

“Woah,” said Jason. Tomie waved to everyone as she entered like a beauty pageant queen.

“Miss Kawakami, a word,” said Mrs Green.

“Not now,” said Tomie as she walked past her waving. Mrs Green grabbed her arm.

“You can’t wear that. You need to put on something within the dress code.”

“But everyone loves it,” she pulled her arm out of Mrs Green’s grip and walked on.

“Tomie! You stop this, this instant. If you don’t leave, you won’t be allowed to go to prom either.” Tomie stormed out followed by the three boys who helped her enter.

~~~~~~~~

Nights like tonight were Mrs Green’s favorite part of being a teacher but she was exhausted and glad to have pulled into her driveway.

Ronald and Sauron, her calico cats, would meet her at the door wondering where their mommy had been and why diner was so late. She shut off her car and entered the blackness that engulfed the dirt driveway. Of all the nights to forget the porch light she thought to herself. The interior lights were off as well. Did we lose power, she thought to herself. She felt an uncertain chill, a deep instinct telling her something was off and to get back in the car. Foolishness, she said to herself, like a child afraid of the dark. Something rustled in the tree line by the edge of her property. Just a squirrel, she thought but best to hurry inside.

She stepped onto the squeaky boards of the front porch, unlocked the door and walked inside. The light flicked on and everything was as she left it. Mrs Green kept her house in fastidious order, as fastidious as two naughty cats would allow anyway. They must have given up waiting, poor dears.

“Ronald, Sauron, Mommy is home,” she cried out. She entered her bedroom and flipped on the light. Red streaks splattered across the walls. Bits of fur and flesh scattered on the carpet. Two mangled mounds of furr, meat, bones and blood sat on her comforter. “Oh God,” she said out loud.

The world around Mrs Green flicked on and off as the bat connected with her skull. A warm fuzzy wave rippled around her head as her body flew to the ground. Confused and disoriented, fight or flight had failed her; all she really wanted to do was start puking. The world came to an end when the second blow landed.


	4. Tomie Investigation Club

It was a dream, thought Jen. An earthquake in a dream. The night’s darkness still painted the windows black. She pulled the sheet back over her shoulder. The windows shook in their frames, humming escalated into a rattle. The bed shook. A steam whistle cut through the darkness as the shaking intensified. A picture shattered on the ground. Another dream, thought Jen. A steam whistle. No, not a steam whistle. A scream. A woman’s scream as loud as a whistle. Tomie, thought Jen as she jumped out of bed. The scream stopped.

She threw on her sneakers and pattered down the wood stairs. She grabbed her phone off the charger, the flashlight off the end table and rushed outside.

“Hey babe, is everything OK,” said Jason.

“I heard Tomie screaming like I’ve never heard anything scream before,” said Jen. She jogged down the street, her flashlight bouncing with her stride. “I think she’s in trouble.”

“Tomie? Is she ok,” asked Jason.

“I don’t know,” said Jen. “I’m going to go check it out now. Stay on the phone with me, I’m scared.”

“Ok, but… Tomie… You…” Jason’s voice garbled out of the phone.

“You’re breaking up,” said Jen.

“I said,” another scream tore through the night air, rustling the stalks of corn like a breeze. Jen’s head pounded. “Did you hear it? Hello? Are you there?” The signal indicator on her phone was a red X. She pushed the green button next to Jason’s name. Call failed.

She stopped at the entrance to Tomie’s driveway. The run down trailer’s open door spilled light into the yard.

“Uhhh,” a moan rose out of the ditch next to the driveway. Jen pointed her flashlight into the hole. A naked body with a bruised purple face laid in mud next to clumps of hair attached to flesh. Tomie’s lip split open down the middle, her right eye swollen shut. Footsized red spots speckled her rib cage. Jen scooted down the side of the ditch and crawled next to her. Tomie reached up to her with a mangled hand, broken fingers jutted every way. Her broken forearm bone stuck out of it’s flesh sheath. Blood smears covered her inner thighs and the top of her pelvis.

“Tomie,” said Jen as she gently took her hand. “I’m here for you.” A wet gurgling sound clogged Tomie’s throat. Jen pulled out her cell phone. Still no signal. She dialed 9-1-1 and hit send. The phone beeped; “call failed” flashed across the screen. She hit call again and it failed again.

“I need to go get help, Tomie. I need you to be brave for me, OK? Hang in for me until I get back,” she said. She scrambled up the ditch and ran home.

~~~~~~~~

The squad car stopped in the road with its light’s flashing. The officer opened the door to let out Jen and Jason. A confused and worried Jason had pulled into Jen’s driveway shortly after she called the police and waited with her for them to arrive. Jen scooted out of the back seat and walked to the pit by the driveway. She shined her light onto the footprints at the empty pit’s bottom.

“Is this where the victim was, miss?” said the officer as he took out a notebook. Tomie had been a closed book to Jen, maybe even a little mean but Tomie went through the worst thing that can happen to a woman and it only got worse from her leaving. They should have come back to save her instead of waiting for the police. Jason talked her into waiting and now his caution may have cost a woman her life.

“I came here and the door was open and Tomie was hurt really badly down there,” she pointed.

“But she’s not here now?” The police officer shined his own light towards the trailer then around the ditch. A second car pulled up to the house with his headlights facing the front yard.

“Whats going on, Murphy, Where’s the vic?” said the second officer as he approached.

“Missing,” said Murphy.   
“She was right here,” said Jen, “Someone must have taken her. I’m so stupid, I shouldn’t have left her.” Jason reached his arm around her back, pulled her in.

“Its ok, baby, if you stayed maybe they would have taken you instead.” The trailer’s front door opened and Tomie wearing plaid pajamas walked onto the concrete stairs. Jen and Murphy shined their lights at her. She held her hand over her eyes.

“Hello, who’s out there,” she called to the blinding lights. The pair moved their lights.

“Miss, are you Tomie Kawakami?” said the officer.

Tomie approached the small group on her driveway. Her hair was intact, hands slim and feminine, face smooth and flawless. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“Miss, is this Tomie,” the officer asked Jen.

“Yes,” said Jen, perplexed by this perfect, intact woman. Was the rape and brutalization part of the steam whistle dream? Had she imagined everything before she called the police at her house. Dread and disgust overpowered the pity and guilt.

“Did you have any guests or visitors tonight,” asked the officer.

“No, I’ve been home, alone all night. Why,” said Tomie.

“We had reports of an incident, potentially involving you or someone who looked like you,” said Murphy.

Tomie tittered flirtatiously and put her arm on Jason’s. “Oh, have you been worrying about me?”

“I see,” said the officer as he flipped his notebook closed and stuffed it in his pocket.

Jen was on the verge of crying when the officers turned off their lights and pulled away. Tomie went back into her house. She stood on the road with an even more confused Jason. Behind the house a black t-shirt laid cut to shreds on top of blood and seamen soaked panties.

~~~~~~~~

The team entered the season on the heals of a five game winning streak only to collapse over three loses. They sat in the health room with the lights off in a somber silence save for the whirling projector fan. A still image of their team lined up on offense in white Jerseys and silver pants opposite a team in all black projected onto the screen.

“Whats wrong with this picture,” asked Coach Brady. Silence returned an answer. He hit play and a second later a yellow flag flew into the air. A ref on the side line ran onto the field waving his arms. “I’m missing my fucking tight end,” yelled the coach. Jon stared down at his notebook, not paying attention to the second hand scolding he just received. Coach Brady pulled the notebook out of his hands. “Hey, lover boy, would it kill you to pay attention?” Jon drew a zombie version of Tomie, her dirt cover face had a hole in the side revealing teeth. “Creepy,” he said before dropping the closed notebook on the desk.

~~~~~~~~

Five women sat around a conference table in the library’s privacy room for the inaugural meeting of the Tomie Investigation Club. The group consisted of Jen Wallace, Class President, her best friend and defacto school social co-ordinator Wendy Miller, Wendy’s assistant planner and yearbook designer Verney Portland, Elizabeth Bland the photographer for the school newspaper, and Chloe Sato, the newspaper’s editor and chief reporter.

“Eugene’s in the hospital, Kyle was suspended and kicked off the football team, Robbie suspended, and now Mrs Green was murdered. These events are linked to Tomie some how,” said Jen.

“It’s not just Eugene, Kyle and Robbie” interrupted Chloe, “all the boys are acting funny, even my boyfriend. She’s all he ever talks about any more. Did you see her hair today? Did you see she wore high heels to gym class? Did you ever hear her laugh? I know boys are dense but this is a totally different level. We’ve got wedding locations and dates picked out, this isn’t like him at all.”

“I’m friends with Robbie and Eugene,” said Verney. Verney lost her entire friend group when Tomie showed up. “I’m still friends with Albert and Joe. It’s like they’re sick or something. Losing weight, black bags under their eyes, sunk in sullen faces. Its creepy to the max.”

“So far I know: Name: Tomie Kawakami Age: Unknown Address: 17220 Highway 16 Parents Names: Unknown Parents Occupation: Unknown: Number of Siblings: Unknown Sibling Names: Unknown Previous Town: Unknown Interests: Unknown Male Friends: Too Many to List Female Friends: Unknown,” said Jen putting down the paper. “Does anyone know any of these?” Everyone sat in silence until Elizabeth raised her hand.

“I don’t think I’ve heard her talk like, ever, about anything,” said Elizabeth.

~~~~~~~~

“You all have your assignments so for now lets finish. Remember, no one can know about this club.” Everyone stood while Jen gathered loose papers.

“Where’s your worse half, you’d think he’d be all wet over the chance to do some James Bond shit,” asked Wendy. Wendy was surprised by Jason’s absence. They did everything together since they started dating in middle school. Wendy had fought against Jason tooth and nail when they started dating. She was quite the little asshole in sixth grade. By now though she was happy to see Jen so happy. This was going to be their last year together, maybe last year as friends. She was heading to the Fashion Institute in New York City while the happy couple was heading a thousand miles away.

“I think its best if he sits this one out. Maybe he doesn’t need to know at all,” said Jen.

“Oh my God, you think he’s compromised,” asked Wendy.

“I don’t know,” she said. She knew that jealousy played a factor in her desire to look into Tomie. Jason would see the insecure little girl wondering what place was left for her in a world with Tomie.

~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth sat at her desk by the classroom entrance playing on her cell phone. Verney sat nervously at her desk watching the door, form in hand. Verney shot out of her seat and walked to Tomie when she came through the door. “Tomie,” she shouted as she walked to the entrance. Elizabeth moved the phone around in her hand and started clicking.

“Hi, Tomie. My name’s Verney and I’m on the year book committee. I was wondering if you had a chance to complete your senior profile yet.”

“My what?” said Tomie. Verney handed Tomie a paper.

“Every senior gets a quarter of a page in the Year book to put in a quote, talk about where they want to go to college and stuff. We usually mail them out over the summer but I guess maybe you weren’t on the list.” Tomie looked at the form, crumpled it, held it up to eye level then dropped it before walking to her desk.

~~~~~~~~

“The camera glitched,” said Elizabeth handing Jen the phone. She scrolled through the pictures of Tomie standing at the door with Verney. Everything was normal, except for her face. The side of her face had a black mass coming off it, like someone had drawn her head in charcoal, smashed the right half with their palm and streaked it across the page. Jen stopped at a picture. The black smudge looked clearer, like a distorted, anguished face stuck in a scream. Every picture, thought Jen. What was the camera actually catching?

“Send me this one,” she said.

~~~~~~~~

“She’s here,” came in the text from Wendy. Jen felt bad about missing Jason’s last game. She wouldn’t make it to Midland High before the end of the game but on the same token Tomie couldn’t make it home before Jen was done. Midland Highschool was the kind of gimme cupcake match up that Chesterfield’s detractors would write whiny editorials about in the Tri-field Gazette but this year they stood between Chesterfield and the playoffs. Jason’s coach said he had never seen a team with so much promise fall so hard into mediocrity.

Jen arrived at Tomie’s house flashlight in hand and walked up the dirt driveway to the rutted mud puddle rear yard. She let herself into the house through the unlocked rear door. The kitchen was clean, but dated. She opened the cabinet by the door and found nothing but yellowing, curdled shelving paper. She didn’t find anything in any of the cabinets hanging over the laminate counter-top next to the electric stove. A bleach bottle and pile of rags sat next to mouse poop and wood pulp in the cabinet under the sink. She snaped a picture with her cell phone. Slightly cold air carried the stench of rotting milk out of the fridge. A single carryout container sat on the middle shelf. She took a picture of the contents of the fridge. Fast food wrappers and carry out containers filled the trash can. She snapped a picture of the kitchen before exiting into the living room.

A bunched up, moth eaten rug that must be a hundred years old sat in the otherwise empty room. Bright white squares on yellowed walls marked where a previous tenant had pictures hanging. Jen pushed open the first door she found and entered an empty room. She shined the light around and took a picture.

The door next to the empty room led to a bathroom. A blue plastic basket filled with make up, hair products, soap, a loofa, and grooming products sat on the toilet tank. A doorless medicine cabinet hung empty over the sink. A clear plastic shower curtain caked in orange spots pulled half out of the bath tub. The shower head dripped. Roaches rushed down the shower drain when she shined the light into the tub. How can Tomie live like this, thought Jen. She wore nice clothes to school, she was so pretty and had an almost aristocratic demeanor. Why would her parents set her up in such squalor?

She picked up a mostly empty shampoo bottle from the basket. She didn’t recognize the brand and took a picture. She photographed the rest of the basket’s contents.

A final hallway to the Master Bedroom ran off the living room. A queen sized, hand carved Victorian four poster bed with upper connecting rails sat in the room. A blood red silk curtain enclosed the bed. An old desk and chair sat in the corner. The surface was empty except for a nail polish bottle. An ornate footlocker sat at the base of the bed. She opened the walk in closet to find rods stuffed with designer clothing. She ran her hand on a smooth cashmere sweater. She pulled a camel cardigan off the rack and took a card out of the over sized front pocket. “Love always, Eduardo”.

She knelt in front of the chest and pushed in the latch; the top popped open. A rancid, rotting smell so vile it coated her flooded the room. She choked on the odor as it clung to her tongue and throat. A white sweater covered in blood rotten black chunks and clumps of hair sat in the trunk. She took a picture and shut it, gasping.

~~~~~~~~

Tomie stood at her rear entrance, holding her shoes in her hands, staring down at the muddy footprints in her kitchen. She put her foot next to the print. It was much larger than hers but smaller than a man’s.

~~~~~~~~

Jen heard from Wendy that the football team was an embarrassment. The team blew the game and missed the play offs. Jason seemed down but not as down as she would have thought.

“I’m sorry that I missed your game,” said Jen. Jason stopped rocking the porch swing and looked down at the head in his lap.

“Its ok, honey. I’m just glad to see you’re feeling better.” He ran his fingers through her hair and resumed rocking the swing. He didn’t want to tell her but he was glad the season was over. The Tomie sick football team members weren’t doing their part. They didn’t block, or run or tackle but just roamed around the field like men with their heads in the clouds. He broke a receiving record barreling through triple coverage but that was only against Midland. He ran the serious risk of a playoff caliber team putting him into the hospital if he had to carry the game versus them.

“How did we do,” asked Jen.

“It was a disgrace. We couldn’t do anything right. We were like one of those electric football teams where the pieces just all vibrate in place. Midland ran past us while we bumbled around. Coach called us the biggest failures of his career on the bus ride home. From States to laughing stock in a month.”

~~~~~~~~

Verney counted Eugene as one of her closest friends. They were the class rejects of their elementary school grade and found solace in each other. He was the smelly kid in class, neglected by a workaholic father and mentally ill but heavily medicated mother. Verney was chubby and awkward and insecure. Her single mother took the world upon her shoulders and never missed an opportunity to reminder her that she was and who’s fault it was. She saw him without a lunch one day and they bonded over half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Hey there, butt face, you look like Hell,” said Verney standing at the hospital room entrance with Jen. A shriveled Eugene laid on the bed with bandages around his face, his nose popping out of the middle. He pushed a button on the bed and his top half rose. He grabbed a notebook off the rolling plastic platform by his bed.

“Hi Verney, how is Tomie; she hasn’t even been to visit me,” Eugene wrote with a frony face.

“I don’t know, I don’t really talk to her. People said you were fighting over Tomie. Were you,” asked Verney.

“Why would you fight over a girl you just met,” interrupted Jen. She flushed with pity and shame when he turned to her. Eugene wrote for a while on the notebook before turning it around. He looked right at Jen while they read it.

“You don’t know what its like to be invisible. Tomie noticed me. I don’t think she cared about one word I said but she listened.”

“Do you think that she knew he was going to do this to you,” asked Jen.

“Get out,” wrote a tearful Eugene before throwing the notebook and pen at them. They exited the room.

“We shouldn’t have done this,” said Jen. They couldn’t hear him get out of bed or struggle with the window. “It’s too soon.”

“I’ll try him again tomorrow, maybe he’ll be more open if its just me,” said Verney. Glass shattered in Eugene’s room. They opened the door just in time to see a figure in a hospital gown disappear out the shattered window. More shattering glass followed by the squeal of tires. Eugene’s body laid in a car hood on the road below his window.

~~~~~~~~

Jen, Jason, and Wendy sat at their usual table in the lunch room. A man with a tray circled Tomie’s completely full table before plopping on the ground at the table’s base.

“Jason, you’re a guy,” said Wendy, “What do you guys see in her?”

“Me,” said Jason, “Nothing, I don’t know what they see in her. She has the personality of a dishrag and the temperament of a shaken bag of cats. You’ll need to ask one of them.”

“Common, that’s bullshit,” said Wendy, “What about that famous locker room talk?”

“What do video games and gorillas fighting sharks have to do with Tomie?”

~~~~~~~~

Verney walked up to Albert and Joe who were playing with a digital camera’s shutter in the classroom’s corner. She missed them, despite their new found enthusiasm for Tomie. She missed hiking with Albert, Joe’s obsession with F tier horror movies, Robbie’s untapped but profound poetic still waters. “Whats up guys, did you hear about Eugene.”

“No,” said Joe, “What happened with Eugene?”

“He killed himself yesterday,” said Verney.

“That sucks,” said Albert. Verney wondered what went through Albert’s mind. He was friends with Eugene since middle school. The five amigos spent many weekends together playing video games, eating junk food and watching anime. They listened to Albert and Eugene’s pointless arguments over waifus and superpowers, comics and music. It was like a party every day. He’s acting like none of it mattered, like some memory of the before times.

“Tomie is probably going to want to know,” said Joe. She didn’t even care enough to visit him in the hospital, thought Verney, I doubt she would notice hes gone if they didn’t tell her.

“What do you guys see in that girl anyway,” said Verney.

“More like what does she see in us,” said Joe. They chuckled like idiots, blind foolish idiots. “I bet you Tomie loves getting her picture taken, huh? Girl looks like a model,” said Verney.

“No she hates it,” said Joe.

“We’re forbidden from doing it. She broke the camera when we took a picture showing it to her,” said Albert.

“Why did she ask you to bring her a camera,” asked Verney. Was she asking them to spy on someone, she said to herself. What does she know?

“We can’t tell you,” said Joe.

“Guys what’s this secretive crap? I thought we were friends. Is she doing porn?” Why does Tomie’s friendship need to come at the cost of us, she thought.

“No,” said Joe way too loud, “Its nothing like that. Its something that involves a friend of a friend kind of thing so we just can’t talk about it.”

~~~~~~~~

Ren’s welcome home party lacked the personal touch Chloe expected from her parents. Hina and Jin were exhausted, they were fresh out of college when Chloe was born and in their youthfulness found the riggers of a new baby much more tolerable. They skipped the home cooking in favor of hiring Verney’s mother to cater. The classically trained chef found little work in the sleepy country town where everyone typically did everything for themselves, but she was glad to see a gig close to home.

Roger fiddled with a blue Lay-z-boy recliner’s extension arm while typing into his cell. Chloe laid with her legs dangling over the brown leather couch’s arm.

“What about these names for a girl, Himari, Hinata, Tsumugi, Rin, Mei, Yuzuki, Yuna, Aoi or Riko,” he read from the screen.

“Why does it have to be a Japanese name,” asked Chloe. She thought a Japanese name sounded odd with the last name Baker. “What about a normal name like Sophia or Charlotte?”

“What do you think about the name Tomie for a girl,” asked Roger. Can we have any conversation any more where he doesn’t bring up her name, thought Chloe. Does he even realize he’s doing it any more.

Verney and Beth entered the room from the kitchen door with plates of food in their hands. “Are you sure you don’t want anything,” asked Beth. Verney put her plate on the coffee table and sat on the floor.

“No, I’m not hungry,” said Chloe. Beth tried sitting down but her foot caught on the edge of the coffee table, she tumbled over sideways, spilling her plate on the hardwood floor.

~~~~~~~~

“I’ve analyzed the photos Jen gave me,” said Chloe standing in front of the Tomie Investigation Club. “The only thing remarkable about the kitchen, living room and spare bedroom is the absence of anything you need to live. She clearly doesn’t live with her parents or anyone else. We can add “expensive clothes” to her list of interests. The closet must have at least thirty thousand dollars worth of designer clothes. All stuff sold nationally. The desk in her room’s an antique from the colonial northeast. Her bed’s Victorian. The chest by her bed’s an ornate footman’s chest from the pre-bellum south. Maybe we can add “antique furniture” to her interests.

“The bathroom provides us with our best clue,” She held up a picture of a small bottle with a white label. “This skin lotion comes from a small brand that only sells locally in the metro Atlanta area. I went town by town within a 500 mile radius of Atlanta, starting at the most remote areas, and searched for an unusually high, short term spike in crime and came across Watertown, Georgia. A sleepy little nowhere berg stuck in the north east corner of the state. Over the course of three months earlier this year, the town saw six assaults involving high school students, three murders, two suicides and one rape. As the sheriff put it, “its more heartbreak than we usually see in ten years.” The capstone event in this mini catastrophe happened when Janice LaCraig shot and killed an unnamed female student during class. Janice, who recently lost her brother and boyfriend, was institutionalized with schizophrenia after the murder. She was on record as describing her victim as “a demon that poisons every man she comes in contact with. A monster. A Succubus.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Wendy.

“Calm down everyone,” said Jen, “the woman in that town was killed. Tomie is very much alive. Maybe she fled after the wrong person was murdered. Does anyone else have anything to add before we adjorn?

“I talked to Albert and Joe,” said Verney, “it sounds like Tomie asked them to spy on someone. They wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Be careful everyone. If there is nothing else,” Jen paused but the group sat silently, “Then lets be done for the day.”

~~~~~~~~

“Hi Jen,” said Elizabeth. “I got some more pictures, but they’re all bad again.” She handed Jen her phone. The first picture was of Tomie sitting in a desk, staring at the front of the room, the black smudge coming off her head. Tomie sat at the lunch table surrounded by boys. She came out of a bathroom stall, looking at Elizabeth in the mirror. A black smudge ruined her face. Tomie’s hand covered her face as she sat next to Elizabeth. She sat at a table in the library with a book over her head.

“Don’t worry about it Beth, its not a big deal,” said Jen.

“No, I want to help. I haven’t done anything yet and I can’t even do this one stupid simple thing. I have another camera I can use, I’ll try that one,” said Elizabeth.

“Ok, but be safe. I think she knows.” She turned the phone to show the picture of Tomie blocking her face.

“Don’t worry, she’ll never know I’m there.”

~~~~~~~~

The brown corn stalks stiffed with mid fall cool. Elizabeth crouched nestled into the line of dead stalks across the street from Tomie’s house. A manual camera with a 100x zoom lens sat on the ground. Her thighs ached from sitting on her knees for the last hour. A black sonata pulled into the driveway. Elizabeth picked up the camera and snapped a picture of the back of the passenger’s head as she got out. Tomie opened the rear passenger door and pulled out three white paper shopping bags. Elizabeth took a picture of her face. She zoomed out and captured Tomie with the bags and car. Tomie walked to the front door, leaned against the wall and took off her shoes. Elizabeth took another close up picture, she was looking right at the camera. Elizabeth lowered the camera and thought, I better go.

A hand pushed her back, pinning her chest to the ground. She tried to buck wildly but was unable to move. Another set of hands grabbed her ankles. The pressure on her chest lifted as the man grabbed an ankle from the other man. She grabbed for the corn stalks but they crumble in her grasp. The two men dragged her across the dirt road. She screamed, her shirt bunching up at her chest while the dirt and rocks scratched up her stomach. They dragged her into the corn field behind Tomie’s house. She screamed until her voice gave out then fell into a muffled cry. The dry stalks cut up the exposed skin on her stomach and face. Her legs spread apart as she reached an opening in the corn. She floated in the air then fell into a hole. The landing knocked the wind out of her. Two men wearing lettermen jackets stood at the top. They picked up shovels and threw dirt on her. She jumped to her feet, planted her bloody palms onto the hole’s edge and vaulted herself up. A shovel connected with her head and she flew back into the hole. The world rang as lights flashed in front of her eyes. The dirt rained down on her. A film of soil coated her. Her mouth filled with a gritty, earthy taste. Breathing became hard as the loose dirt encased her. Her lungs burned. The world went dark.


	5. The Big Guy

Jason missed some things about football season. Nothing compared to standing in the end zone, the crowd on its feet cheering, your team mates running up, jumping and hollering in elation. The friendships, the comradery, even the rivalries. He didn’t miss the unrelenting pressure to perform, the oversized expectations. Returning to work brought its own kind of satisfaction. He traded the hopes and dreams of a thousand people for a management that valued him for his ability to reach high places and lift heavy things. He liked working at Big Russ’s Sports in the Springfield Outdoor Mall. It gave him an excuse to leave Chesterfield’s sleepy streets where the downtown area only had a dollar store and an ice cream shop for a town with malls, a movie theater, restaurants and everything else a boy could ask for.

“Yo, big guy, you’re back early this year,” said Mario. Mario was the men’s apparel manager and usually the senior manager during Jason’s evening shifts. Mario forwent the stores dress code of khakis and a red branded polo for a prolific track suits selection. Today he wore a red suit with an over sized check mark on the back.

“I guess it just wasn’t our year,” said Jason.

“Mr Modesty, over here, breaking all kinds of records and saying ‘I guess it wasn’t our year.’ How bout ‘they fucked me Mario and I’m pissed.’”

“It’s not like that. It’s easy to break the yards after the catch record when your quarterback can’t throw the ball past the line of scrimmage,” said Jason.

“Ouch, there it is! Why don’t you go straighten up footwear then make your way down to menswear,” said Mario.

“I never knew you were a sadist,” said Jason.

“It’s my one pleasure in life. In five years when I’m sitting around with my bum friends watching the Chiefs and drinking beer, I can say ‘That’s the guy I used to make fold jock straps,’” said Mario.

~~~~~~~~

Two hundred twenty five pounds seemed like such an arbitrary number to rest so much of your future on. Two big plates on each end of the bar. Your ability to lift it a couple of times made the difference between NFL stardom and selling used cars.

Now for his least favorite part of gym, pulling his spotter away from that creepy girl Kyle and Jon followed around like love sick puppies. Every day Tomie sat on the preacher curl bench in the corner. Most men in the classroom stretched, and lifted around her while she sat staring at Jason milling around the different stations. Jason entertained the idea of complaining to Coach Brady about the creep but dismissed it; He was more likely to get an attaboy than help.

Kyle’s been a bit terrifying lately so Jason approached Jon stretching on the mat by Tomie.

“Hey Man, Can you help me out?” Jon looked up at Jason then to Tomie before standing.

“Sure,” he followed Jason to the bench. Jason laid down and settled his hands on the markers just outside the smooth middle portion. One last breath and he lifted the bar in the air. Jason’s muscles screamed fire half way through the eleventh rep. The bar stuck half way while Jason frantically breathed but no help came. He looked to Jon who stared at Tomie. The bar lowered onto his chest.

“Help,” he grunted. Jon snapped back into focus and grabbed the bar. They lifted it together and settled it into the rack.

~~~~~~~~

Jason stood in front of the megaplex that shared a parking lot with Big Russ’s waiting for Jen. Recommending a date at a place he already was felt like cheating the system of give and take that balanced a healthy relationship. A black sedan drove slowly past him. Was he imagining it or did that same car drive by him three times. His cell phone rang.

“Hey, Jen,” said Jason.

“I’m here, honey. I’ll be there in a second,” said Jen.

“Which aisle are you in?” Jason wanted to keep her on the phone. He heard all the horror stories about young women walking alone at night and worried. His over protectiveness had been in overdrive since a girl in their class went missing. One car in the lot had its headlights on. “Nevermind, I see you, I’ll be there in a second.” He bounded off the curb towards the running car. “How was the ride?”

“Long,” she growned over the phone, “They need to open one of these by us.”

“Never going to happen, not enough people would use it,” said Jason. The car shut off as he approached.

“I know,” she said before hanging up. He opened the door. The black sedan faced her red Jeep from across the aisle.

~~~~~~~~

Jason had been on a strict diet in anticipation of his budding collegiate career. The salty, buttery movie theater popcorn felt like a lead coated hand punched into his stomach. He wasn’t much interested in the standard romance fair where a guy, who by all standards was a total creep but somehow its ok because he’s hot, pursued a plain Jane protagonist. Jason was more of a romantic comedies kind of guy. They have all the ups and downs of a romance without the smell your own farts pretentiousness. But Jen had read the book and wanted to see the movie so he was happy to oblige. He was just happy she moved on from her artsy foreign language indie phase. He could go his whole life without reading his way through another depressing movie.

A rapid clicking interrupted the theater’s quietness.

“Turn off the shutter, dumbass,” a man whispered into the darkness.

“I’m trying,” said another man. Jason looked over his shoulders to see two boys a couple of rows back, illumination from a digital camera’s LED screen outlining their faces.

~~~~~~~~

Jen and Jason walked into the gym. Another day, another pile of iceberg lettuce and what ever fresh fruits and vegetables he could pull from their piddling selection.

“Jason,” Tomie called from behind him. She had on the biggest, fakest smile he had ever seen. “Come join us,” she said. Jason looked at the completely full table, save for a thin Tomie sized slot. Several boys sat on the floor.

“Where would we sit,” said Jason. He hoped Tomie would pick up on the word we and realize that he was with someone. Jason had trouble imagining someone could attend Chesterfield High School and not know he was dating Jen but Tomie seemed to miss that fact somehow.

“I’ll make someone move,” said Tomie. Jason looked at Jen wishing he could say help me with his eyes.

“I think,” said Jen trying to politely intervene on his behalf.

“I’m not talking to you,” interrupted Tomie. Jason put a hand on Jen’s back and walked away. What a rude, insufferable girl thought Jason. How dare she talk to Jen like that and why would she think doing so would win any favor with him. Tomie’s smile faded as she stared at his back.

“What was that about,” asked Wendy. Jen had perfected the art of hiding her emotions, packing them behind a wall of politeness and cheer but Wendy knew her enough to tell she was pissed. She wore what Wendy called her thousand yard smile.

“She wanted Jason to have lunch with her,” said Jen. Disrespectful, arrogant bitch she thought. It was bad enough that she made Jason uncomfortable in gym class but now she’s harassing him outside as well.

“Not enough men on tap already? Need one more,” asked Wendy.

“Lunch with the gym class stalker? No thanks,” said Jason.

“Did you talk to Coach Brady,” asked Jen.

“Yes. I asked him if there was a discrete way to transfer Tomie or me out of the weight room. He told me to man up.”

~~~~~~~~

Kyle laid on the bench press staring up at the ceiling. Tomie’s followers scattered about the weightroom on the other benches. The preacher curl bench in the corner sat empty. Guess I will finally get to do some curls thought Jason. Jason felt relief that the weight room finally returned to normal; all it took was Tomie’s absence. Jason grabbed a barbell from the weight racks on the far wall and threw two ten pound plates on it. He sat on the bench, arms extended on the diagonal pad. He stared at his bicepts as he curled the weight.

A small woman sat behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, one snaking its way up the front of his shirt, the other shot down his shorts. She cupped his balls and penis then gently squeezed. He dropped the barbell and stood too quickly, hurling over the side onto his face. He grabbed the stinging pain on his cheek. Tomie looked down at him. She waved and said, “You’re in my seat” with a big smile. Jason pulled his blood covered hand away from his face.

~~~~~~~~

Jason threw his gym shoes into his locker. She crossed the line this time. He couldn’t just shrug her off as another googly eyed hopeful. This was an escalation he wasn’t happy to see, what kind of boundary could she respect?

“Hey Jason, I thought we were friends,” said Kyle.

“We are,” said Jason. Kyle grabbed Jason’s collar as he turned around and slammed him into the rattling lockers.

“Then keep your fucking hands off Tomie.”

~~~~~~~~

Principal Stevenson liked Jason, so did all of Chesterfield High School’s faculty. Most of the students, especially the girls, seemed to like him as well. He didn’t think Jason would come to him with a problem like this. He should have plenty of experience letting girls down gently by now.

“I’m surprised you came to me instead of going to Coach Brady,” said Principal Stevenson from behind his cigarette smoke stained desk.

“I asked coach, he wasn’t able to help. I can’t stay in that class. She been staring at me and last class she touched me while I was lifting. This isn’t a one time thing like with Kyle’s mom. She’s dangerous.”

“What are you afraid of, son? She can’t be more than 105 pounds soaking wet, you could break her in half with your bare hands if you had to,” said Principal Stevenson. The thought had crossed his mind but so did the consequences. He would lose his scholarships, recruitment offers, suspension, maybe jail time. No one, Principal Stevenson included, would take his side.

“You know I couldn’t do that,” said Jason.

“I know,” said Principal Stevenson, “Do you want a nickle worth of free advice, Jason? There’s going to be a point in your life when you’re going to look back and roll your eyes at that time when your biggest problem was that miss popularity wanted to give you whiplash through your penis. Trust me, son, it don’t last and you’ll miss it when its gone.”

“I’m desperate here, Mr Stevenson. Shes going to do something to me, I know it,” said Jason.

“I’ll tell you what, the quarter’s ending in two weeks. If it really bothers you that bad then I’ll switch you to the group that’s going to health so you won’t have to see her again.”

~~~~~~~~

Jason hated working openings on Saturday morning during the Christmas Rush. He had to be there at 5am to make sure the door busters were adequately stocked and tidy. Several cars already idled in spaces by the front door waiting for the store to open. Jason parked and walked to the entrance. A car door opened behind him. A moment later, a burlap sack covered his head. He tried to fight back but what felt like a dozen people pushed him to the ground, pulling his arms into the small of his back. Zip ties tightened around his wrists and ankles.

~~~~~~~~

Jason didn’t know how long he laid on the floor with his hands tied together over his head. He felt a hard poll coming off a metal plate bolted to the floor. The poll ran to another plate bolted on to a flat hard surface. He felt sown leather lines along the board’s edges. His legs were spread apart, tied individually to objects unknown. The sack lifted off his head; Tomie looked down at him from the weight bench.

“Good Morning, Jason, Its nice to see you again,” said Tomie. Nothing about this was nice, thought Jason. What did she hope to accomplish by tying him up and why would her men go along with this?

“You crazy bitch, why would you do this,” asked Jason. He pulled on the bindings but they didn’t budge.

“Why don’t you love me, like everyone else does,” asked Tomie.

“Love you? I don’t even know you,” he said. Maybe now Coach and Principal Stevenson will take him seriously.

“Why don’t you want to know me,” she said. “I’ll help you.” Tomie held up a six inch hunting knife. She kneeled next to Jason as he squirmed and undid his belt and buttons. She split open the seam of his pants with the knife.

“What the hell are you doing?” He tried to move away from her but could only wriggle in place.

“Jason, honey, you don’t want to squirm during this part.” She cut his pants and underwear off. Jason laid naked from the waist down, unable to move. She stroked the shaft of his penis; he got hard against his will.

“Get off me,” he said. She pulled her underwear off from under her skirt. Tomie straddled Jason, sliding his shaft into her vagina. She let out a little moan. “Get off,” Jason yelled. She put her finger over his lips as she rocked back and forth.

“I wouldn’t do that. I told them not to come but if they hear you they’ll come and kill us both.” She picked up the pace, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Stop,” he said as tears welled up in his eyes. “Please, stop.”

She pressed the knife to his throat. “I’ll stop. Go ahead tell me again.”

Jason escaped Tomie into the recesses of his mind. Far away vacation spots. Cherished memories. He tried to find shapes in the cacophony of white dots in the drop ceiling. Anything to win the tug of war between his mind and mother nature but the tug of war was more like being dragged by a car. Despite his fighting and everything he wished, he could feel an orgasm welling up. Tomie panted harder. Tomie groaned, the walls of her vagina convulsed, pulling him in further, as he spilled his seed into her. She ran her hand down the side of his face and gave him one last kiss before sliding off. Jason stared at the ceiling. He didn’t notice her cut the bonds on his hands or slip out the door. A sudden rush of shame and guilt overcame him. He never felt so alone.


	6. Aftermath

Jen and Jason sat on her living room couch, watching a movie. She laid with her head on his chest, resting one hand around his waist, the other holding his hand. Something seemed off about him today. Her grandfather spent Sunday night at church so Jason came over to spend some time with her. He was normally all over her before her grandfather’s station wagon disappeared over the horizon. Jen kissed him on the neck but he didn’t respond. She took her hand out of his and ran it up his thigh to his groin. He tensed up. She swung herself into his lap facing him and passionately kissed his lips. His heart beat a million miles an hour. He breathed heavily. Too heavily. Hyper ventilating. Everything closing in. A sudden claustrophobic dread blanketed everything.

He jumped to his feet while Jen did everything she could to not fall on the ground.

“Whats wrong,” asked Jen.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he snapped. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door then hopped into the drivers seat of his car. He sat silently staring at the steering wheel. He didn’t realize he was crying. Crying hysterically; crying with abandon. He leaned his face into his arm across the wheel to cover his shame.

The driver door opened; Jen pulled his head into her bosom as he wrapped his arms around her and let it out.

~~~~~~~~

The couple sat on the porch swing, over sized mugs steaming in the cool December air. Jen listened to his tale, trying to hide her anger and disgust. Was Tomie really capable of rape? Tomie herself had been raped, maybe countless times behind closed doors by her followers. She should be sympathetic to the horrors of it. Should Jason have fought back more, could have he? Jason has never been anything but honest with her, why does she have to fight this surge of doubt. Oh my god, thought Jen, what if she’s pregnant. Can a thing like Tomie even get pregnant. Thing, she thought, don’t I mean person?

“What do you think you should do,” said Jen when he finally came to the conclusion.

“I don’t know. The police wouldn’t believe a word of this. She would just deny it anyway assuming they bothered to ask her. Its more likely I get charged with filing a false police report than anything happens to her. Best case scenario Coach Brady or Principal Stevenson give me a speech about using a lovesick girl for sex, worst case suspend me for sneaking into the weight room to have sex.”

“Then what are you going to do about it,” asked Jen.

“Try to live with it,” said Jason. Jen took his hand. Now wasn’t the time for her to indulge her insecurities; Jason needed her.

“I put together a group to look into Tomie,” said Jen. It was her turn to share secrets.

~~~~~~~~

Jen held off on making this phone call as if doing so could will into existence a monster that possessed unnatural control over men. Like whispering bloody Mary into the mirror. Or maybe she was afraid of what it meant for her, that a part of her has abandoned rational understanding; that she’s embraced a piece of insanity.

“Hello, St George Memorial, how may I direct your call,” said a woman.

“Hi, My name’s Jen Wallace and I’m trying to get a hold of Janice LaCraig,” said Jen.

“We only allow authorized reporters with valid press passes on file and physician’s approval to speak with patients. The only other people allowed to talk with the patient are her family.”

“Please, mam, its important. I think I might be going through the same thing,” said Jen.

“If that’s the case, miss, then I would recommend you get some professional help,” said the woman.

~~~~~~~~

The crowded post lunch hallway traffic bent around two broad men in letterman jackets as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the hall. Tomie walked behind them followed by two more men. Jason pulled Jen to the wall just in time to miss taking a shoulder from the men. A girl staring at her phone walked into the two men, taking a stiff arm to the chest and crumpling to the ground. They walked over her sprawled out body.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey,” said Roger with the enthusiasm of road kill. Chloe hadn’t talked to him in four days. She couldn’t remember the last time they hadn’t talked in that long. She noticed all of their communication fell on her so she decided to run an experiment: how long would he go without reaching out to her. She stopped texting, stayed off social media and didn’t call. She avoided him during lunch. Chloe couldn’t last another day of this. She cried herself to sleep the night before. The experiment transcended information gathering into masochism and she just wanted it to stop.

“I don’t think this is working out any more,” said Chloe.

“Ok,” he said and the line went dead.

~~~~~~~~

Coach Brady didn’t understand the boys of Jason’s generation, its like their lives were written in a language he couldn’t read. Jason possessed a once in a generation talent that should have propelled him to the top of every girl’s fuck list. In his day, someone like Jason would have been plowing a dozen star struck girls like Tomie, not sitting around his Coach’s office to talk about his feelings.

“You’ve missed Gym three days in a row now, Jason. Where’ve you been,” asked Coach Brady. Jason hated the hand me down elementary school chairs in Coach Brady’s office. The small, hard orange plastic chairs leaned forward at harsh angles.

“I went to the library to respond to recruiter emails,” said Jason.

“You could do that any time, you don’t need to miss class for that. Does this have something to do with that Tomie girl?” Jason felt a wave of anxiety at the mention of Tomie’s name. He couldn’t keep this secret bottled up any longer, maybe Coach could help him. Take him out of class, give him a special assignment. Do something that avoiding the problem has failed to fix.

“She raped me coach,” said Jason.

“You’ve been steamrollering boys bigger than her since pop warner. We’re all human, son, we all have to live with temptation. You’ve got a good thing going on with Jen but part of being a man is accepting the responsibility for your actions.”

“This isn’t regret, she had a fucking knife to my throat,” said Jason.

“I have a lot of respect for you, you’re the only player on the whole god damn team that came out to play for me this year but girls don’t do stuff like that Jason,” said Coach Brady.

“You’ve known me for four years coach, have I ever lied to you,” asked Jason.

“No, you’ve always been a straight shooter, son, now let me return the favor, keep your fucking mouth shut about this Tomie girl. This is the kind of thing that can get you labeled as having a lack of character. That label is damn near impossible to lose. Just take as long as you need to make your peace with it and tell Jen when the time is right, I’m sure she’ll forgive you. Or don’t, its not like you had a kid with her.”

~~~~~~~~

Chesterfield’s library was nothing special by a big city’s standards but Jen loved it none the less. She could get lost in the dozen or so stacks of books. Reading titles, pulling down interesting ones to read the summaries on the back. If one showed real promise she may even begin the introduction. Jen had whiled away many hours this way. Jason had long ago come to terms with the fact that his interests diverged from hers and usually bowed out of her frequent trips. He’s found it increasingly difficult to be away from her ever since Tomie raped him. Jason had nightmares of men dragging Jen into dark shadowy places to be beaten, raped, and killed. Everywhere he went he carried a general anxiety, a dull static buzzing always running in the background of his mind that would flare up into a foghorn of fear, anger, and doubt that wouldn’t calm until he knew she was safe.

Jason sat in an old arm chair in the magazine section reading a back issue of Sports Illustrated while keeping tabs on Jen and the other library patrons. Joe and Albert sat at a table across from him taking pictures with a digital camera when they thought he wasn’t looking. Robbie stood in the stacks on the opposite side of Jen, recording her with a camera through a gap in the rows of books. Jason walked up behind Robbie and grabbed the camera out of his hands.

“Hey,” he whined, “that’s mine, give that back.” Robbie, bright red, shrank away. Jason grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him close then leaning down to his ear.

“If we weren’t in a public place,” Jason whispered into his ear, “I would do something to you they don’t have a name for at the hospital.” Robbie peed himself. Jason let go of his neck and he ran out of the stacks, past the front desk, and out the door.

Jen stood at the head of the aisle holding a book on Demonology watching Robbie run. “What was that about,” she asked.

“I caught him recording you with this,” he handed her the camera.

“Whats on your leg?” A big wet spot stained his thigh.

“Gross, that fucker peed on me,” said Jason while Jen stifled laughter.

“Why don’t you go clean up, I’ll be fine out here,” said Jen.

Jason entered the dingy bathroom and stood at the mirror. He grabbed a handful of paper towels and moistened them before dabbing at the spot above his knee. He’s too engrossed in the clean up to hear the light squeak of a stall door opening. Too busy going through a rage filled index of the things he planned on doing to Robbie if he caught him by Jen again to hear the light pattering of footsteps behind him. A small arm reached down the back of his sweat pants. A bottle rock of pain shot up his back as two fingers dart into his anus and fish hooked his asshole. He jumped and howled, pulling away from Tomie standing behind him, hunting knife in one hand, holding up two fingers on the other hand, blood running down her finger tips.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’ll be more gentle next time,” she licked the blood off her fingers then sucked on them seductively. Tomie crumpled to the floor as Jason stiff armed her running out the door.

~~~~~~~~

Jen laid in her bed holding Robbie’s camera. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Tomie went after Jason again. Things were already out of Jen’s control and escalating further. How could they compete with a person who didn’t seem bound by the rules of sanity and society like they were?

She had intended just a quick perusal before falling asleep but now it was 2am and she still had hundreds of things to go through. She found pictures of all of TIC on the camera. Pictures of Chloe’s home, Chloe having a BBQ with her family, videos of her studying in the library, staring out the window during class. He had similar images for all of them. Verney at a store buying tampons. Jen and Jason on the porch swing. Wendy under the bleachers at school kissing a girl. Jen’s grandfather in church. Wendy in an apron standing behind a counter. Work places, homes, siblings, parents, cars. Everything. Jen came to the image of a large four post bed as seen through a dirty window. She hit play and heard heavy breathing with feet shuffling. The sound of a zipper. The light from the bedroom turned on and in walked a naked Tomie. The video froze once she was in frame, the hideous smudge coming off her face. The audio continued as Robbie panted harder and harder. The video snapped into motion as the camera turned away from the window and bobbed off towards the street.


	7. Christmas Break

Watertown reminded Jen of Chesterfield if someone had replaced the prairie farm land with overgrown forests. A two lane county highway brought them directly into the small city limits containing barely more than a square mile of twentieth century homes on quarter acre lots. A liquor store and gas station made up the small economic district at the town’s heart. A web of dirt roads with small homes nestled into sprawling untamed acres encircled this small nucleus.

The blue craftsman sat in the middle of an overgrown, browning lawn at the center of the small incorporated Watertown city limits. A woman with jet black hair wearing a blue polo and jeans came out of the front door. Jason turned off the engine while Jen hopped out of the driver seat and crossed the lawn towards her.

“Cynthia LaCraig,” asked Jen. “My name’s Jen Wallace and this is my boyfriend, Jason Arthur. Do you have a minute to talk about Janice.”

“I’m not interested,” she said, walking on. A media circus took up residence on her property right after Janice shot that girl during school. Bloggers, YouTubers, journalists, and morbid bystanders looking for information on the killing stopped by all the time. Cynthia has grown weary and defensive of strangers approaching her.

“Please, we need to ask her some questions about Tomie Kawakami,” said Jen. Cynthia stopped.

“I don’t know a Tomie Kawakami, only a Tomie Uzumaki and she’s dead,” said Cynthia.

“Please, it will only be a minute,” implored Jason.

“My brother’s dead, my sister’s in jail, my mom’s a wreck and my dad lost his job because he can’t climb his way out of a fucking bottle. I’m barely hanging on by a string and you want to drudge all this shit up again? Fuck You,” said Cynthia.

“Please, the same thing is happening to us. People are dying and disappearing. We need to know what happened. Look,” said Jen, shoving a camera into Cynthia’s hands. Cynthia flipped through the pictures on Robbie’s camera but didn’t understand the significance. People just seemed to be living their lives.

“I don’t understand,” said Cynthia.

“All those people on that camera are my friends. One of Tomie’s followers has been following us around taking these. She’s planning something and its going to be bad.”

“I need to go to work, you want to talk to me, hop in the car. No, not him, just you. He can pick you up at the Jonestown Theater.” Jen sat in the black Explorer’s passenger seat. The cluttered interior smelled like cigarette smoke. Cynthia threw the camera into Jen’s lap before starting the car. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No,” said Jen.

“Good, because if you said yes I’d have told you to get the fuck out.” She lit up the cigarette and backed out of her driveway.

“Janice and John were thick as thieves. I’m the dorky younger sister that got left out of everything. I only met Tomie a couple of times. She seemed cold and distant. He had a fiance when she moved here. A girl named Red that he dated since forever. He only dated Tomie for about a month when he died. You’d think that the moon and stars revolved around her from talking to him. I think that’s really what got to Jan, she was his mama bear.”

“What was your brother like,” asked Jen.

“He was someone who could never do things half way. He threw himself head first into everything. You know, he just got picked up by some big art commune in Atlanta right before he met that bitch. He was just waiting out the school year,” said Cynthia.

“Do you have a picture of Tomie,” asked Jen. Cynthia chortled at the question.

“No, seems no one did. Made for an awkward funeral. They asked around, not a single person had a picture. Not even my brother.” Cynthia stopped at a traffic light.

“Did she look like this,” Jen handed her the picture with the twisted distortion. Cynthia covered the smudge with her finger. Tomie Uzumaki stared back at her on the phone screen.

“Holy shit,” said Cynthia. “Let me talk to Jan and see if she wants to talk to you. Until then, you should hit up Red.”

~~~~~~~~

Red had closed the book on the Tomie saga like most of Watertown. She was glad to be done with her and anyone associated with her. She graduated high school that spring and moved down to Austin to live with her cousin. She came back to visit her mother for Christmas when the frantic call from Cynthia came in. She didn’t approve of people using Cynthia.

A beautiful woman with bright red hair sat at a center table in the Jonestown cafe waving to Jason and Jen when they entered.

“Jen,” she said through a dazzling smile. They looked like a handsome couple but what was their angle? Everyone always had an angle.

“You must be Red, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with us,” said Jen. Her heart sank; if Tomie could steal a man away from a woman this beautiful, what chance did she stand?

“It’s not every day you get a frantic phone call from your ex’s sister saying ‘that bitch is still alive,” said Red.

“Did you know Tomie well,” asked Jen.

“I didn’t know Tomie at all. She hit my relationship like a freight train. John was having one of his intense flights of fancy, thats all. She stole my boyfriend, Janice’s boyfriend, shit she had a dozen other boyfriends right out in the open. It was only a matter of time until he came back. I would have forgiven him, I loved him.”

“Did he have a lot of those, flights of Fancy,” asked Jen

“He had an artists soul like that. Pain’s the jet fuel of creativity, he used to say and he had a lot. His mother was a druggy selling his asshole for money since he left pampers. His dad’s a drunk who looked the other way. That Janice is just as rotten as her parents. I swore I was done with that whole shit hole family when John died but Cynthia’s a good kid. Leave her alone, she doesn’t deserve to have her head filled with this nonsense about Tomie still being alive. She was a shitty bitch and I’m glad shes dead.”

~~~~~~~~

Jen sat next to Cynthia at a white particle board folding table in a visiting room scattered with similar tables. The vaulted ceilings gave this sparsely decorated room an open, private feel despite the fact that the Institution’s staff could see everyone. Janice, large black bags under her eyes and a far away stare, sat across the table from them in an orange jump suit. Is this my future, thought Jen; a Tomie widow drugged out of my mind in a nut house with small padded white rooms and fake plants by the windows meeting the next round of victims. She felt one stop away from crazy town already.

“Hi Jan,” said Cynthia as she reached out to hold Janice’s hand.

“This is the girl with the Tomie problem,” said Janice, “What do you want from me.”

“We’re trying to figure out how to stop her and anything you can tell me would be very helpful,” said Jen

“A bullet to the head seemed to work out alright,” said Janice.

“I hoped we could figure out another way. A way that doesn’t take us down with her,” said Jen.

“You’re just a little princess, huh, Queen bitch of the boonies,” said Janice, “You’d like to clean up a mess like Tomie without getting your hands dirty? Well, I’d like to see someone take that silver spoon out of your mouth and shove it sideways up your ass to wipe that fake good girl smile off your face.”

“Jan please, that's not helpful,” said Cynthia.

“I’ll tell you what not to do, don’t go to the adults. They have a special blind spot for her. They think everything’s just weird or a coincidence. Nothing fucking wrong with a girl that has two dozen boyfriends that all start killing each other. She’s just popular, you know,” said Janice.

“How did you meet her,” asked Jen. Janice was herself a toxic, angry person that Jen couldn’t stand. She was like a rabid dog biting anyone who came around. How could a woman like this beat Tomie while they struggled so much to come to terms with her.

“She started school right after Christmas break. She was the new girl so it was big news for that reason but everything else about her was so unremarkable, except her beauty of course. She turned every head in that school but she was some kind of sad loner. Never talked to anybody. Always sat by herself. She befriended a couple of dorks, maybe took a couple of dork’s V-Cards so someone would sit with her. Nobody knew who that fucking bitch was until someone found her brutally raped in a parking lot at 2am. All of a sudden Tomie was the only thing people could talk about. One after another she started collecting hanger ons and obsessed stalkers, goons too.

“My brother started talking about her in early February. Mostly tame school yard crush bull shit like what she wore today or her smile. Not the kind of shit you would expect from an engaged adult. In the span of a couple of weeks went from head over heals in love with Red to just another lapdog for Tomie. Red’s a raging fucking cunt but she’s mother Theresa compared to Tomie.

“He called Tomie his girlfriend, but their relationship was more like an addict and his drug. He sold everything to buy her stuff. When he ran out of stuff to sell, he stole from Mom and Dad then me and Cindy. Oh, shit, the stuff they found when they went through her house. Closets full of expensive shit. The documents they gave my lawyer said high five figures, low six figures easy. They didn’t know for sure because, a couple of weeks after I shot the bitch, someone raided her house. Broke off the lock the sheriff put on the door and walked away with everything inside. They even lost the brain covered sweater she was wearing that day. Nobody broke into the evidence room and the cameras ‘conveniently’ malfunctioned when it was stolen. They said it was like it just walked off on its own. Apparently she didn’t have any right to live at that house either. No Parents, no food, no nothing. Everything she put on her school application was some kind of lie.

“Despite John and all his problems it turns out, Scott, was the one I should have been worried about. I knew something was wrong with him. Maybe I was being blind, or stupid but I had no idea things were that bad. He always had a darkness in him but its like he withdrew into it. First a bum behind the Seven Eleven got beaten half to death. No one really cared to look into it, No Humans Involved, as they say. Then Gladyss in the movie theater parking lot, then my brother. No one knew anything, no one was doing anything. Then Scott killed himself. No reason other than a word from Tomie. Like fucking magic – dead. If I hadn’t heard from his own lips that he killed John and Gladyss, I wouldn’t have believed it. They think I’m a fucking nut job, and maybe I am, but I swear to god Tomie was behind everything.” Jen was horrified at the realization that this was how other people heard her.

“But this is great, Jan, Tomie is still alive. We should go to the police. They can find her,” said Cynthia.

“Not going to happen kiddo. They wouldn’t believe any of this. You go to the police and you’ll be on this side of the table next time.”

~~~~~~~~

The roof crashed into the second floor, a gaping hole exposed the rafters to the elements. With no internal or external lights Jen and Jason could only see by the beams of their Maglights. Extensive water damage warped the moss and mold caked hardwood floor.

“Jesus, I thought her Chesterfield home was awful,” said Jen. The damage was extensive and old. The home had likely been damaged for several years. Jason carefully walked around the boards creaking under his weight. The first bedroom contained a black sleeping bag by scattered cigarette butts and empty liquor bottles.

“Someone’s been living here,” said Jason. He picked around the trash but only found drifter garbage. The closet was empty as was the master bath. Nothing happened when Jen turned on the sink. Rodents scurried in the walls. The basement stairs led to a rock filled dirt floor pooling with water. The stairs leading to the second floor were broken half way up. The broken stairs fell into the basement staircase. Jason sat on the ledge of the fire place next to an overflowing ash pile.

“How can we get up there,” he asked. Jen stood at the base of the stairs, shining her light into the upstairs hallway.

“We would need a long board to lay across the hole, assuming the upper stairs can hold,” said Jen. Jason pulled out his cell phone but it caught on the lip of his jean’s pocket and he bumbled it into the ashes.

“Jen, some help,” he said. She shined her light onto the ash pile. He pushed ash from the top onto the floor with the butt of his flashlight digging for his phone. A singed photograph fell to the floor. He picked it up. A young Asian woman in a black pleated skirt and white collared shirt with a sweater around her waist stood in front of a blackboard next to a man with big side burns, Jerry curls, thick rimmed glasses, skinny jeans and a tight shirt with chest hair popping out of an open collar. The black distortion grew off her head. The browns and tans of aging washed out the polaroid’s coloring. Jason flipped the photo over and read the date: September 7th, 1984.

“Is this Tomie’s mother,” asked Jason.

~~~~~~~~

Watertown may not have any businesses but they did have an abundance of churches. One such church sat several miles down a dirt road in a grass clearing carved into the endless woods deep in the heart of the unincorporated portion. Generations of head stones and monuments sat in a field behind the church. The pauper’s graves sat in a remote, unlit corner of the cemetery. A small square stone with a name and date marked Tomie’s grave.

“I want to say, for the record, that this is insane,” said Jason chest deep in a large rectangular hole. Jen stood at the hole’s edge with a shovel looking down at him.

“Noted,” she said. Jen needed to see the body for herself. She was more convinced than ever that the Tomie walking around Chesterfield was the same girl who terrorized Watertown. Maybe they would find an empty box and uncover a lie that let a free, and very much alive, Tomie flee to Chesterfield. He threw another dirt load up to the ledge and she moved it.

Jason’s shovel head thuded on something hard in the dirt. He pushed the soil into a pile and threw it out. A plain wooden box sat at the bottom.

“Give me the pry bar, please,” said Jason as he shoved his shovel into the soil at the boxes end. Jen handed the prybar to Jason. He wedged the bar between the lid and casket then pried off the top. Jen shined her light into the coffin. Jason staggered back then pulled himself out of the hole. Jen gasped. Jason ran to their car at the cemetery's entrance. A perfectly intact body without a head twitched in the casket. An arm lifted off the ground. A jumble of partially formed hands and limbs sat in a puddle of hair and blood at the base of the neck. The hands grabbed at the air, scratched at the box’s walls. One hand pulled a flesh chunk off the neck. The body twitched again, banging an arm on the box’s side. Was this thing also Tomie; was there more than one? Jen no longer thought of Tomie as human, she could take the form of flesh and blood but she moved beyond her understanding. She couldn’t be killed or stopped. This butchered flesh mass grew into multiple bodies.

Jason returned with a red gas can. He dumped the contents into the box, lit a match and threw it into the coffin. The hole burst into life as fire over took the living corpse. The smell of burnt meat filled the air. The corpse thrashed violently while screaming a pitiless, high pitched wail as fire reduced it to ashes.


	8. Dinner Party

Jen and Jason returned to her grandfather’s house late on Sunday night, his station wagon sat in the driveway by the darkened house. Long drives like the one back from Georgia made Jen tired. The vacation was her first long trip away with Jason so she hated to see it end, but she was exhausted and glad to be home again.

“Looks like Grandpa called it an early night,” said Jason as he turned off the car. He hopped out of the drivers seat and hurried to the trunk. Jason had her luggage out by the time she made her way to him.

“I hate that you have to go back home somewhere else,” said Jen, as she leaned in to hug Jason. He pulled her chin up and kissed her.

Jen undid the side door’s lock and flicked the light switch when she walked in. The light stayed off. She flicked it on and off with no effect. She fliped the switch for the outside light and nothing happened.

“Grandpa,” Jen called out to the empty house. Jason noticed plates and silverware scattered on the ground and pulled her outside.

“We need the flashlights,” he whispered to her as he went back into the trunk. “Send a text to the girls saying to call the police if they don’t hear from us in 5 minutes.” A confused Jen did as he asked. Jason handed her a black metal Mag light and turned on his. They reentered the kitchen slowly, checking around the corners with their lights. The cabinet drawers and doors laid open, their contents strewn about the floor. Melted food from the open freezer leaked down the refrigerator. The fridge’s spoiled contents reeked like rotten milk.

“Oh my God, Jason, what happened?” Muddy, food caked foot prints walked around the living room’s white carpet. The old radio scattered in several pieces on the floor. Grandpa’s bedroom door by the stairs sat open. Jen held her breath as they entered. The room had been tossed like all the others, the mattress pulled off the box spring. “He’s not here,” said Jen. They ascended the steps to the hallway connecting the bathroom and second floor bedrooms. The sour, rotten smell of decaying flesh choked their nostrils. Jen stifled the urge to vomit as she gagged on the odor.

Everything in Jen’s room had been torn to pieces. Mattress split open, blinds torn down. Holes punched into the walls. Sheets shredded with a knife. The contents of her dresser thrown into a pile on the floor. Grandpa’s lifeless corpse laid in a heap by her bed; a knife wound on his neck leaked his life’s blood into a sticky pool.

~~~~~~~~

Jen sat awake in Jason’s bed, the whirlwind of activity from the last twenty four hours still clouding her thoughts. Police reports, interrogations, the media, her uncle coming up from Dallas. The police taping off her home’s entrance with yellow tape while a small crowd of watchers huddle where her driveway met the road. Ghouls who couldn’t even see anything standing in the dark. A very pretty girl with a very ugly smile stood in the crowd.

Jason tossed and turned in his sleep. A sight she became accustomed to over their weekend in the crappy motel. She knew the nightmare was only starting. She ran her fingers through his hair. He panted and kicked, ground his teeth. “No,” he yelled as he sat up covered in sweat, hyperventilating. He wouldn’t remember this in the morning, he never did. He looked around the room and calmed enough to lay down. Jen pulled his head into her lap while he fell back asleep.

“It’s ok,” she said, “I’ll protect you.”

~~~~~~~~

Dr Arthur was one of two people that Jen knew who still read the newspaper. Her grandfather was the other. Jen didn’t think she had to fight back tears so early or easily, let alone over something so trivial. He sat on the end of the six person cedar dining room table in front of a large black coffee mug that said “Not My Day” in white block letters. Mrs. Arthur stood in front of a sizzling pan on a gas range.

“Thank you for letting me stay here Dr Arthur,” said Jen. The Arthur's had opened their home to her once before when her grandfather went to the hospital for a couple of days after a stroke but this was going to be months. They insisted she live with them when they heard she needed to move to Dallas with her uncle to finish the school year.

“Nonsense,” he said, closing the news paper. “Stay as long as you need. Dreadful, what happened to your grandfather. That man was a saint. Besides, you’re practically our daughter in law already.”

“Jonathan Arthur,” came Mrs Arthur’s voice from the kitchen. “That’s enough of that. Don’t you think they’re too young for talk like that?” They dated for six years so marriage had crossed Jen’s mind before. They shared a deep love that seemed unassailable to her. A love that would easily outlive both of them. They talked about every aspect of a life together from homes to careers and kids but somehow never broached a wedding.

“You can’t tell me, Joanna, that they aren’t the spitting image of us at that age?”

~~~~~~~~

Jen was glad to be back in school; she was going to lose her mind if she had to spend another day wallowing in her misery alone in Jason’s room. She barely entered her first period class before well meaning students stopped her to express their condolences. A line to talk to her persisted long after the first period bell rung. Miss Witherspoon, the recent college graduate who took over for Mrs Greene, wasn’t good with conflict. She let the make shift wake proceed not for a sense of community or empathy but because of an inability to stop it.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Tomie when she reached Jen. She leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I heard he cried and begged for his life. How unbecoming a man.” Jen wound up and slapped Tomie with such force her lip split open and her cheek turned red. Tomie flopped on the ground with a fake scream.

“Jen,” shouted Miss Witherspoon from her desk. “Everyone take your seats.” Kyle buried his fist into Jen’s stomach and she immediately crumpled to the floor unable to breath. “Kyle,” the teacher shouted in her impotence. She picked up the phone attached to the wall by her desk. Kyle grabbed Jen by the hair and pulled her onto her stomach toward the door. Wendy rushed to Jen, pulling a bright orange aerosol can out of her pocket. An orange Mace stream flew out of the nozzel into Kyle’s face. He dropped Jen’s hair, flailing his arms blindly towards Wendy. Jen grabbed Kyle’s ankle as he stumbled towards her. Instead of tripping him, like she had hoped, it only refocused his attention on her. He turned around and wound up his free foot. Coach Brady exploded through the classroom door, tackling Kyle to the ground. Joe and Albert attended to Tomie while Wendy checked on Jen.

~~~~~~~~

Principal Stevenson sat across from Jen at his gross desk. He had been long time friends with Jen’s grandfather. They were both aldermen at the Pentecostal Church on Harding. Grandma had been friends with Ethel Stevenson since their girlhood. The Stevenson Wallace connection had generational roots in Chesterfield. “I know this must be hard for you. We demand reasons even for senseless and random acts of violence. How can we come to terms with the fact that sometimes the universe turns its gears against us?” The universe sat this one out, thought Jen. Tomie was the reason her grandfather was dead. She would be dead too if she hadn’t taken that trip to Watertown.

“Maybe this was our fault, maybe you just weren’t ready to come back. I’ve talked to the board, they were fine with letting this one slide. We don’t know what happened with that mother of yours, but you’re every bit that man’s granddaughter and he’d be turning over in his grave to see you throw everything away for one stupid, grief fueled mistake.”

“Tomie said that Grandpa cried and begged for his life. How could someone be so cruel and petty.” Jen broke down crying with frustration and grief. She knew Principal Stevenson would never believe someone like Tomie could be involved with her Grandfather’s death and she didn’t want to become like Janice trying to convince him otherwise.

“A little birdy told me that Tomie has been pretty actively pursuing Jason. She probably said those vile things to get this exact response,” said Mr Stevenson.

“What’s going to happen to the others,” asked Jen.

“Tomie and Kyle were given warnings and will be transferred to different classes from you. Wendy had a weapon in the classroom and will be suspended.” Kyle’s hands were more dangerous than Mace. He could have easily killed her or Wendy, broken their necks like celery stalks.

“If she didn’t have that mace then the police would be cleaning my brain off the hallway floor with a sponge.”

~~~~~~~~

Steve Miller liked black clothing, heavy metal, guns and marijuana. Wendy’s spiky haired older brother was the front man for a metalcore band called Bump Stock Lickers. A typical jam session consisted of setting up their instruments in Wendy’s basement before smoking pot all afternoon. They never had any gigs or written any songs but Steve got offended any time his parents asked him to “get a real job.”

Wendy’s basement was her fathers man cave. He was a long haul trucker so he wasn’t around much but when he was he would disappear into this sanctuary to play pool, watch the wall mounted flat screen TV from the leather couch, or drink from the now heavily depleted bar. A gun case stuffed with hunting riffles, AR 15s, and shot guns sat in the corner next to a lock box containing pistols.

Steve sat on a folding chair in front of a non-functioning M2 Browning mounted to the wall when Wendy came looking for him. She felt a contact high from walking into the basement. Dad’s going to kill him, if mom doesn’t first thought Wendy.

“Hi, Steve,” said Wendy. He liked to be called Lucifer in front of his band but she felt like that was a ridiculous stage name and refused. He just looked up at her baked out of his mind. He gave her the impression of Tomie’s followers. “I want to learn how to shoot.”

~~~~~~~~

The discovery of Jen’s Grandfather shocked TIC’s members. The group decided they should no longer meet in public places. They were too vulnerable to compromise when meeting in areas outside of their control. Jen knew the change was security theater, they were vulnerable everywhere they went. The meeting was moved to Chloe’s large brick house just outside the city limits.

Jason, Wendy and Jen sat on a brown leather couch. Verney rocked in a baby blue Laz-y-boy recliner. Chloe sat on the floor by the end table in front of the couch holding a pen and pad of paper.

“Are you sure its safe to meet here,” asked Jason.

“She already knows where we all live,” said Chloe, “So no, its not safe here. Its not safe for any of us any more.” Chloe was good friends with Elizabeth and her disappearance had hit her the hardest. She resigned herself to not live in fear over unpredictable variables like Tomie.

“Lets just shoot the bitch in the head and be done with it,” said Wendy.

“We can’t stoop to her level,” said Jen.

“Stoop to her level? That bitch just killed your fucking grandpa. God knows what else shes done that we don’t even know about.” Wendy loved Jen but her doe eyed optimism was going to get someone killed. Tomie was unstable and erratic.

Jason pulled a cardboard tray with plastic wrapped mace containers out of his backpack.

“I want everyone to take one of these,” said Jen, “and keep it on you at all times, even school. And there is this app, it lets you track where all your friends are, download it and friend everyone here. Never go anywhere alone.” Chloe pulled out a stack of papers. She firmly believed in the power of the press. The written word could rally people to do extraordinary things: bring justice, end tyranny and oppression, fix the world’s ills. The only way to put an end to the disease known as Tomie was to expose her to scrutiny; light was the best disinfectant.

“Our group is way too small to do anything about Tomie,” said Chloe, “We need to turn the people against her. These flyers outline the horrible things she did in Watertown and here and show her horrendous true face. We should have Wendy put them on people’s cars during class.”

~~~~~~~~

The parking lot was unusually energetic. People pulled white papers from under their windshield wipers and brought them to each other. Tomie was used to people looking at her, she hardly noticed it any more, but it wasn’t only men, the women were staring too. Some were laughing. She picked a flyer off the ground.

_Tomie_ _K_ _awakam_ _i_ _, known as Tomie Uzumaki, fled Watertown, Georgia on suspicion of involvement with_ _two_ _murders and a suicide. She moved into an abandoned trailer_ _on Highway 16_ _alone and forged school admission records…_

_~~~~~~~~_

Chloe’s baby brother sure could scream. His head bobbled to the side uncontrollably. He couldn’t grab a pencil you put in his hand but his lungs were made of steel and his vocal strength rivaled any adults. Chloe set up her homework in a neat station on the spare cushions of the couch but she was getting little done. Hina bobbed the baby up and down as she paced the living room. Jin sang a tune she couldn’t make out as he cooked diner in the kitchen. She hated being in her room during a rain storm; the sounds of rain pattering on the tin roof right over her head was like a thousand sound pricks aimed right at her ears. Anything was better than this fog horn of distraction floating up and down the room. She shoved her worksheets into her text books.

“I’m going to my room,” said Chloe.

“Ok, honey, I’ll come get you when diner’s ready,” said Hina.

Chloe dragged her arm full of books up the stairs then dumped them onto her desk. She put in ear buds and turned up some music.

A faint knocking wrapped on the front door. Hina opened it to find a thin girl in a school uniform soaking wet from the rain. She trembled in the cold January shower. Her shirt’s collar had been stretched to the point of tearing off. The barefoot girl held one shoe closely to her chest. Blood ran down her lip.

“Please, help me,” said the girl. The woman ushered her in with her arm, baby still wailing in the other.

“Jin,” called the woman but her husband didn’t respond. She put the baby in a crib by the couch then crouched down next to the shivering girl.

“I’m going to get my husband, we’ll call the police. I need you to stay right here, Ok? Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Uh Huh,” she choked out. Hina stood and headed to the kitchen when something shot out, latching onto her wrist so hard the cartilage felt like it was bending in on itself.

“What are you doing,” asked Chloe’s mother. The girl held up a hunting knife and pounced on her, pushing her backwards onto the floor. She held the knife to the woman’s throat.

“You’re going to do exactly what I tell you or I’m going to slit your throat and you can bleed out on the floor while I kill your baby. Do what I say and no one gets hurt. Get on your knees. Call your husband.”

“Jin, I need you. Can you come in here.” A small Asian man in glasses with a dishrag over his shoulder walked in through the double door from the kitchen.

“What is it my love,” he said. “What’s this?”

“Jin, this girl, she has a knife and she said if we do what she says then no one gets hurt,” said Hina.

“Get on your knees,” said the girl with the knife to woman’s throat. He complied. “Now put your hands on the back of your head.”

Kyle and Roger walked through the door with ropes and rags in their hands.

The baby screamed a visceral desperate scream so loud Chloe could hear him through the music and rain pattering over head. What are they doing, torturing the baby, she thought before turning up the volume.

~~~~~~~~

Chloe couldn’t hear her bedroom door opening over the thumping base of her music. She couldn’t sense the heavy footfalls coming up behind her. Thick arms wrapped around her in the chair, coming under her arm pits, locking her arms immobile over her head. She screamed as the person behind her riped her from her chair and draged her backwards through the door. She thrashed and kicked but couldn’t budge from the man’s grip.

The family’s best porcelain china laid next to the good silverware on embroidered silk napkins on top of a pristine white table cloth. A white cloth gag choked Hina. A crimson crown of blood dripped from Jin’s drooping head onto the table cloth. Tomie sat at the table’s head in her wet dirty school girl outfit, blood and mud dried to her face.

“Mommy, can you pass the mashed potatoes,” said Tomie. Hina groaned into her gag when she saw Kyle dragging Chloe to the table.

“Oh good, big sister is finally joining us.” Kyle forced Chloe into the chair at the table’s other end. “You don’t need to worry, I just want to ask you some questions.” Kyle tied her to the chair.

“Poor daddy, hes so tired from working hard all day and making this beautiful meal. We’re so lucky to have a daddy like him,” said Tomie. “You don’t know how lucky you are. I’ve never had a nice house, a family like this. A dad that cooks and sings. A mom that loves you. To throw it all away for such stupid reasons.”

“What are you talking about Tomie,” said Chloe. Chloe felt like she was going to throw up. Her father clearly needed to go to the hospital, her mother was a panic attack away from passing out.

“I’m talking about this,” said Tomie as she held up a flyer from the parking lot. “A photograph can’t capture even a tenth of my beauty. My beauty needs to be immortalized by the hands of masters, not something every peasant carries around in their pocket.”

“You’re doing all of this because you don’t like the picture I used in that flyer? You really are a silly little bitch, aren’t you. You would be pathetic if you weren’t so dangerous,” said Chloe.

“You’re a liar with a filthy, dirty little mouth and what is a filthy dirty mouth good for? Kyle go find Roger and see what’s taking him.” Kyle disappeared through the double door to the kitchen. Chloe noticed the silence for the first time since she came downstairs.

“Where’s Ren,” asked Chloe. “Where’s my fucking brother.” Chloe flexed her muscles and pulled as hard as she could at the chair. The ropes bit into the soft flesh of her arms and chest but she was unable to move. She tried to stand but couldn’t keep her feet with her waist bent to the chair.

“He’ll be with us soon,” said Tomie. Roger entered the room with three thin slices of meat on a plate. “Think of it like veal,” said Tomie. Roger put a piece of meat on the end of her fork. He tried to feed it to Chloe but she clenched her teeth. “Be a good girl and eat your diner.” Tomie picked up a fork from Hina’s setting and rubbed the side of her face. Tomie jammed the head of the fork into her eyeball, blood and puss shot out of her eye socket. Hina screamed into the gag while Tomie pulled the red liquid covered fork out. She rubbed the liquid from the fork onto a meat slice before pulling the gag down from the mother’s mouth.

Hina screamed, “Why are you doing...,” Tomie shoved the meat into her open mouth then pulled the gag back into place. The meat slide into the back of her throat, choking her as she’s unable to chew the lump in the back of her mouth. A churning, retching gurgle raised up in her throat as she puked into the gag. A thin line of puke escaped the side of the gag as she vomited again into her mouth. A rotten eggs odor permeated the room as her face turned blue and she slipped into unconsciousness.

“Big sister’s been keeping secrets from me.” Tomie picked up her hunting knife from the table. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about that little club of yours.” Tomie picked up a slice of meat and pressed it into Chloe’s lips. Chloe held her mouth shut. She knew, anything she did, she was going to die so this was her final defiant act. She refused to give Tomie the satisfaction of making her do this one last indignity.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat,” she said dropping the meat on the table, “then you don’t need this.” Roger put a hand on each side of Chloe’s head, holding her in place. Tomie placed the edge of the blade between her teeth then punched the unsharpened side with the palm of her hand. Chloe’s teeth shot apart as her bottom jaw went limp. Tomie turned the knife sideways, digging out her tongue which fell to the table’s surface in a stream of blood. Chloe didn’t cry or make a sound and the police never found all of her.


	9. Escalation

Jason took his seat next to the window preoccupied by Verney’s rumor. Verney called Jen that morning to tell her Chloe’s family was butchered, chopped into small bite sized chunks. Jason hoped, for her sake, that the rumors were grossly exaggerated and he should find her alive and well. Rumors had a way of spreading and taking a life of their own in Chesterfield, but he had never heard one so grotesque or extraordinary. He didn’t notice a petite girl in over-sized black sunglasses and wide rimmed felt hat with a large sunflower bow switch her seat to the one next to him.

Mr O’Leary dropped his brief case on his corner desk. Jason found Mr O’Leary’s snarky, defeated outlook to be depressing. He struck him as the type who fried ants with a magnifying glass in his childhood. Now his only pleasure was making his unfortunate students hate themselves. Jason wondered if he was that petty school master who tortured his students only to go home to shoulder the abuse of his overbearing wife.

“Tomie Kawakami, take off those glasses and that ridiculous hat,” Mr O’Leary called from his desk. Was this the infamous Tomie that Mr O’Leary heard all about, the woman of a thousand boyfriends, the cause of every problem at Chesterfield High this year. Principal Stevenson made her sound like the devil herself, not this minute quirky girl with an atrocious sense of fashion.

“I can’t. Everyone’s been taking pictures of me all morning, its awkward and dreadful and mean,” said the girl next to Jason.

“No one is allowed to use their phones in this classroom Ms Kawakami, now take it off.”

“You’re not in this class,” said Jason. Tomie smiled and shrugged. Kyle walked into the classroom and took the desk behind Tomie.

Jason sighed, leaned his face on his hand and looked out the window. “Today we’re going to review questions from the unit three practice test. I want you all to pair up and…”

Jason felt a person thud into his arm. “I’ve found my partner,” squealed Tomie.

“Fantastic news Ms Kawakami, now if everyone else can do the same that would be wonderful,” said Mr O’Leary. Tomie pulled her desk against Jason’s and scooted as close to him as possible before pulling her book between them.

“I have my own book,” said Jason as he stood. Jason walked to Mr O’Leary’s desk. “I don’t want to partner with her.”

“Then don’t,” said Mr O’Leary. Jason turned to see everyone else in the class broken into pairs except for Tomie. Kyle gave Jason a disapproving look as he walked back to his desk.

“Do you want to switch,” Jason asked Kyle. Kyle and Robbie looked over to Tomie who shook her head no.

“Not this time,” said Kyle. Jason sat down next to Tomie. She leaned her head onto his arm and placed her hand on his thigh.

“I missed you,” she said. She moved her hand from his thigh and gently rubbed his crotch. “Shhh, wouldn’t want anyone to notice.” Shame and shelf loathing flooded Jason as he got hard.

He jumped to his feet, “Get your fucking hands off me,” he screamed. Everyone in the class turned to him. Verney stared at his crotch and turned bright red. He grabbed his backpack and walked out the classroom door. Mr O’Leary caught his arm and followed him out.

“Where are you going,” he asked.

“To talk to Principal Stevenson,” said Jason.

“Class isn’t over yet. Calm yourself down and come in when you’re presentable again. And this time keep your hands to yourself,” said Mr O’Leary.

“I didn’t want to work with Tomie. I didn’t want to be by Tomie, and I sure as hell didn’t like her grabbing my fucking dick in the middle of class.” said Jason.

“That’s not what it looked like to me.” Jason pulled his arm out of Mr O’Leary’s grip.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey, you can’t just walk in there,” Shirley the secretary’s voice followed Jason into Principal Stevenson’s office. Principal Stevenson sat at the desk with a cigarette in his mouth, a phone pressed to his ear and a bright red ash tray in front of him.

“He’s here now,” he said into the phone before hanging up.

“You take her out of my Gym class just to put her into my Social Studies class, what kind of sense does that make,” said Jason. He was exasperated with this administrators incompetence but tried to subdue his anger. Angry demands are met with angry responses, as his father always said.

“Sit down son.” Principal Stevenson gestured to the chair by his desk. “Its not just Social studies, its every class now, but Gym. We had to rearrange her schedule to keep the peace with Jen, Wendy and Kyle. We could have moved Wendy and Jen but thought Jen’s transcript would look bad.”

“Every class now? Why would…” asked Jason.

“Just shut up,” said Principal Stevenson as he slammed his fist into the desk. “Some sicko’s butchering my students and I’m so tired of refereeing this petty school yard romance bullshit. You need to man up and deal with it.”

~~~~~~~~

The Chesterfield Ice Cream Factory more closely resembled a large shed than the cavernous manufacturing namesake. The outside tables laid empty this time of year as most residents deemed it too cold to sit outside or have iced cream. The inside boasted a seating capacity of four spread across two tables. This proved adequate for the usually vacant creamery except on Sunday afternoons when the business that sat within walking distance of three churches could rival Times Square. The owner loved kitsch. The counter used an ornate 19th century cash register to collect funds. A buffalo head mounted on the wall wore over sized sunglasses. A clown mannequin held a sign reading “Sundae is my Favorite Day” by the entrance.

An alligator in a sombrero crawled across the wall by Verney and Jen’s table. Jen licked the iced cream bulb on her single scoop waffle cone while Verney collected her Gut Buster Supreme Sundae. Jen sat up straight in silence enjoying her iced cream while a defeated looking Verney hunched over her massive bowl as though she were staring into the abyss. Verney asked Jen if she could meet alone without saying why and now just sat silently.

“What can I do to get a boy to like me,” she finally broke in. Jen just licked her iced cream, unprepared for a question like that she had to think for a minute. “All the boys like you, and Jason of course. I thought maybe you could help me be a little more like you.”

“What have you already tried,” asked Jen. Verne felt ashamed the answer was nothing so she didn’t answer, just finally dug into the sundae. Jen knew what that meant so she didn’t have to press further. Jen dated Jason for so long she was far from the ideal person to ask for pick up advice. “Forget about what ever it is you think you know about your crush. He could be the smartest man alive but dumb as bricks when it comes to understanding you. I have two rules when it comes to boys, they are pretty stupid and forget what they say they want. Subtle hints don’t work and you can’t just blurt out what you want to say to them. You need to find the right balance between mystique and communication.”

That wasn’t very useful, thought Verney, more like something you would read in Cosmopolitan. “How did you meet Jason,” said Verney.

“We met in 6th grade, in gym class. I was actually taller than him if you could believe that, but just barely. He was the only boy in the grade taller than my chin so he had that going for him. Back then we didn’t really know what a relationship was, it was something we had a vague understanding that we were supposed to be in but little clue as to why or how. He invited me over to his house to play Nintendo, bless him. Try to find common ground with him, use that as an excuse to spend time with him and see where it goes from there.” So be hot and the catch of the century will just throw himself at you, thought Verney. This advice session made her feel worse about herself. She jammed the spoon into the mountain of iced cream.

~~~~~~~~

Jason laid on the cold ground in a black hooded sweatshirt and black pants. The uncleared corn stalks were brittle but sharp. He didn’t have a clear sense of how long he had watched Tomie’s lifeless trailer but felt it must have been hours. Jason rolled over to his back. The sliver of a new moon crested in a black hole among a milky soup of celestial bodies. Jason tapped the grip of his holstered .45 as if he didn’t touch it every so often it might disappear. There’s no going back after this, he thought. Does killing something like Tomie make him a murderer? She still takes a human shape, what ever she is. Killing her will be indistinguishable from shooting a real woman.

A car pulled into the driveway, its headlights blinding Jason. A petite woman exited the black sedan’s passenger seat. She walked alone to the kitchen door as the car backed out of the driveway. Jason army crawled through the splintering corn stalks towards the back of the house as she entered the door. The interior lights shot on followed by her bedroom light. He crawled to the corner window and peered through the crack between the blinds and the window frame. A naked Tomie put a sweater on a hanger and put it in the closet. She carried a pile of folded pajamas out of her bedroom. Jason followed along the side of the house. The bathroom light turned on. He sat with his back against the bathroom wall, listening to the movement through the paper thin walls. The shower sputtered to life. The shower curtain scraped open and closed as Tomie entered. Jason’s heart pounded as he sweated in the almost freezing night air. He’s really doing this, he thought.

He entered the house through the unlocked kitchen door. Light and steam poured into the living room through the open bathroom door. Tomie stood in the shower, hands washing shampoo out of her hair while she looked up into the hot water. Jason quietly entered the bathroom and aimed the gun at Tomie’s head. The bullet leapt out of the flashing muzzle with a deafening explosion. Red spots spread all over the shower wall as the chunk of lead tore a hole through the house. Tomie’s lifeless body bounced off the shower wall, hitting the tub with a thud. The running water washed streaks of blood down the drain. Jason emptied the rest of his clip into her corpse.


	10. Vacation

Jason expected more from Tomie’s disappearance several weeks ago: a police investigation, the discovery she had been living alone in a trailer she didn’t own and the forgeries that got her into school. They had rigorously drilled alibis and how to give honest looking answers that were still believable. Verney, god bless her, even created flashcards. He figured he would be suspect number one but instead nothing. She just disappeared. He didn’t care how she made her exit as long as she left.

“Has anyone heard from Tomie Kawakami,” asked Mr O’Leary. She had not been in his class long but he was glad to be rid of the nuisance. He noticed a profound change in some of the male students. Usually engaged, intelligent men who spent most of the class arguing with him just sat there quietly, staring at her.

“I talked to her last night, she went on vacation with her parents,” called out Kyle.

“Well, if you happen to talk to Ms Kawakami again, can you please let her know that she needs to have her parents contact the school before she has to repeat her senior year.”

~~~~~~~~

“That’s so unfair,” said Jen. The trio sat at their usual table in the lunch room. Tomie’s mega table had dissipated leaving the AV club alone. Wendy tried hard to play the part of the too cool for school rebel but Jen knew this must have been a blow. Wendy had been counting the days until she graduated and moved on from Chesterfield with only an obsession over planning prom occupying her.

“Who’s going to plan prom,” asked Jason.

“Those three volunteered to do it.” Wendy pointed at Robbie’s table.

“Oh god, I can’t wait for our Tomie themed prom,” said Jason fearing Tomie may not really be gone.

~~~~~~~~

Jen and Jason’s picture laid flat on the night table. The framed picture hanging on the wall was turned backwards. Jen lifted the frame off the night stand, her face in the picture was drawn over with a black sharpie. She took the photo off the wall to find it the same. She pulled Jason’s photo album out of the night stand’s top drawer. Someone crossed out the “Jen” in “Jen and Jason” on the cover and wrote “Tomie” above it. She’s not really gone, thought Jen. That had been too easy, everything had gone too well.

Jen at the rodeo with her face blacked out. A blacked out face shares an ice cream cone with Jason. A blacked out face sits next to Jason on a bench in front of the White House. Pages and pages of blacked out faces. Every picture. Jen flipped through the book to the end. A naked body covered in bullet holes with an indiscernible face pulverized into a meaty pulp laid in a bathtub.

~~~~~~~~

The Bunker hill Militia Compound was unaffiliated with the revolutionary war or the militia which fought it. The compound contained a shooting range backed by a huge dirt pile. Wendy stood at the firing line within an individually partitioned station. The target sat 7 yards away, the closest distance allowed by the range. Steve sat on the back of a bench directly behind her with a half drank bottle of Bruce’s scotch.

Wendy stood with her feet parallel, hips facing forward holding her gun out in two hands. She aimed at the target and pulled the trigger; the bullet sailed to the right of the target’s head. Damn it, not good enough thought Wendy.

“Aim for center mass,” said Steve, “heads are hard to hit.” But I need to hit the head, thought Wendy as she lined up another shot and the bullet sailed over the target. “You stubborn bitch, why did you even ask for my help,”said Steve. He took a big swig from the bottle then laid on the bench. She aimed at the center of the target’s body and hit it’s shoulder.

“Better,” he said. Wendy’s wrist ached. This was going to be a long day, she thought.

~~~~~~~~

Jen waited much longer than she should have to get her possessions from Grandpa’s house. She grew tired of cycling through the small selection available from the Georgia trip and figured it was time to confront the ambivalence she now felt towards her childhood home. The once sacred ground of “Grandpa’s” now evoked feelings of regret, anger, sadness and fear. She barely knew her mother and didn’t even know her father’s name. The last memory of the woman who birthed her faded from recollection long ago. The home contained a lifetime of fond memories and she wasn’t going to let Tomie steal that from her.

She stood on her life long home’s porch next to her uncle waiting for the officer to remove the yellow tape and padlock. The black sedan slowly drove by, a women in a large hat and over sized sunglasses watched her from the front seat. Regardless of what worked in Watertown, a bullet to the head didn’t cure their problem. Something went wrong.

The putrid odor of decay hit Jen when the officer opened the door. Moldy, rotten food and curdled milk covered the kitchen floor.

“Oh Jesus,” said her uncle, “Is insurance going to pay for this?” The police offer shrugged his shoulders. Jen steeled herself and entered the house. The lights still didn’t turn on. Jen turned on her cell phone’s flashlight and continued through the first floor to the stairs. She ascended the stairs and entered her bedroom. The huge red stain turned brown. The death stench hung heavy on the air. Her drawers laid empty on the bed room floor, no clothing to be found. Even her hamper in the closet was empty.

She headed back to kitchen. “Where are my clothes,” she asked the officer.

“We wouldn’t have taken nothing like that, miss.”

~~~~~~~~

Jason had trouble talking to his father. He was a brilliantly intelligent man but never took anything seriously. Joanna said it was because he dealt with life and death every day and this was his way of coping. Getting him to see the severity of his problem would be nearly impossible. Jason’s father and mother sat at the dining room table playing a card game. Jason took a seat across from them, photo album in hand.

“Mom, Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about and its not easy for me to say,” said Jason. “A girl at school’s been stalking me.”

“It’s about time that Jen had some real competition again,” said Dr Arthur.

“Jonathan, you are the absolute worst. Jason’s serious,” said Mrs Arthur. Jason placed the album on the table. His parents flipped through the pages.

“She’s done some bad stuff, to me. To Jen. To my friends. I need you to make sure you lock the doors and windows all the time, even when you’re home.”

“Yes, son” said Dr Arthur with a seriousness Jason had never seen before. This reaction unsettled him more than if he had just joked the claim away.

~~~~~~~~

The persistence required for Verney to beg Joe, Albert and Robbie to hang out with her saddened her. Snacks in plastic bowls and Mountain Dew Bottles sat on rickety TV trays by the stain covered sofa Robbie’s older brother got from Craigslist. Joe fiddled with a DVD case by the oversized TV Verney remembered from the first time she came over in middle school. She straightened her hair, put on make up and wore a padded push up bra but none of them noticed. Albert bailed last minute.

“What masterpiece do you have for me today,” asked Verney. Joe had the most obscure collection of movies she ever saw. He owned classics such as Killer Models from Mars and Rapezilla: Dog from Hell.

“Zombie Jesus versus Samurai Claus,” Said Joe. Robbie drew in a notebook he turned away from her when ever she tried to look.

“Can I use the bathroom before we start,” said Verney, exiting the room before she received an answer. She was halfway up the hall when she heard Robbie's voice.

“Why do we have to entertain this heifer,” said Robbie.

“Tomie told us to play nice with her,” said Joe. Verney rushed past Robbie’s open bedroom door into the bathroom. Tears streaked her mascara. She took a wipe out of her purse and wiped off her make up then rinsed her face. She took the pads out of her bra and threw them into the trash before exiting the bathroom. Verney noticed Robbie’s open door and walked into his room. Hand drawn pictures of Tomie dyeing covered the walls. One picture showed a faceless Tomie with no eyes, crying tears of blood. Another showed her hanging from a balloon pulling her into the sky by a noose. She’s tied to pole on a pyre, flames licking at her feet. An armless, legless Tomie torso laid in gallons of blood

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they,” said Robbie at the room entrance. Verney pushed past him and left the house.

~~~~~~~~

Jen sat in the red plastic upholstered booth of a chain restaurant next to several clothing bags. The Arthur’s gave her money to buy clothes when they found out her entire wardrobe went missing. Jason really had the best family in town, thought Jen. No one else would have been so nice, and understanding as they had been. She felt a tinge of disappointment that there was nothing she could do to return the favor.

“Where do you think that bitch is,” said Wendy from across the booth. They had followed Janice’s prescription and shot Tomie in the head but all signs indicated she was still alive biding her time. Jason had put everything on the line to end this but it was all to no avail. No one felt worse than Wendy, who put in the suggestion. If Jason had got hurt, or put in jail, then Wendy would have been the author of so much pain for Jen.

A woman in a green polo with suspenders covered in buttons walked over to the table and put down the bill. “For when yall are ready, no rush.”

Jen picked through the bags looking for her purse. “Oh shoot, I must have left my purse in a changing room,” said Jen.

~~~~~~~~

Jason’s phone vibrated on the coffee table. “Come out and help me,” said Jen’s message. She was home earlier than he expected by at least an hour. Usually Wendy would help her in and stay for a while. Jason headed to the deserted driveway.

“Where are you,” he wrote back. “Garage” came the answer. Why would Jen be in the garage, he thought. She never parks in the garage. Maybe she got him a present, he thought, the kind that requires secret rendezvous in the garage to give him. Kind of weird she would buy that kind of thing with Wendy, but girls were weird like that.

He entered the garage through the side door. Tomie held her hunting knife wearing Jen’s blue homecoming dress and a blonde wig. The dress’ bottom dragged several inches on the floor while the straps fell off her shoulders. The dress sat ruffled, flat and ill fitting on the much smaller Tomie. Red holes poxed her face where the flesh was still growing back. Jason could see her teeth through a hole in the side of her face. She leaned against his father’s workbench pulling up the bottom of her dress to reveal her bare vagina.

“Isn’t this what you like, don’t you want to fuck me now” she asked.

Jason left the garage and ran into the house to the gun cabinet in the living room but the .45 and holster were missing.

~~~~~~~~

Jen rummaged through the fitting room’s debris laden floor. She moved aside a shirt and pair of pants when Wendy’s phone rang. This was the last of the fitting rooms Jen had visited but still no purse. Where else could’ve it gone?

“Whats up Jason,” said Wendy. Jen heard Jason come from outside of the fitting room and joined Wendy in the hall.

“Tomie has Jen’s phone and she’s here. She’s got the gun. What ever you do, don’t come back here. Take her to your house for the night.” Jen grabbed the phone from Wendy.

“Jason,” she said into the dead line.

~~~~~~~~

“Chesterfield police department, what’s your emergency,” said the voice on the line. A tapping came on the window. Tomie pressed both hands and her face on the window across from him, a blood streak ran down the window pane from the hole in her face. The locked window rattled when she tried to open it.

“My crazy bitch stalker is here and she has a knife and my parent’s gun,” said Jason. Jason gave the dispatcher Tomie’s name and his address. “Sir, we’ll get a car out there as soon as possible.”

“I need someone now. She’s going to kill me,” said Jason.

“Sir, we treat domestic situations very seriously. We’ll have an officer there to take everyone’s statements.” What did the officer mean by domestic situation, thought Jason. A crazy stalker with a knife and gun wasn’t an angry wife throwing her husband’s clothes out the bedroom window. Would anyone take him seriously before its too late? Jason hung up the phone and headed to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~

“Jason,” Tomie called through the locked front door. “I have a gift for you.” Jason saw Tomie standing at the door with a high school boy wearing his father’s gun from the front window. The boy sat on his knees in front of the door, clinging to Tomie’s waist, burying his head into her hips.

“I love you,” he said to Tomie. “I love you so much.”

“Lay down,” said Tomie. The man complied. She undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. She put his penis in her mouth, watching Jason at the window. She moved her head back and forth as the man got hard then pulled the dress up and straddled him, maintaining eye contact with Jason. She rode him making exaggerated porn star moans.

“Oh God, I’m going to come,” he said. Tomie pulled the pistol out of the holster.

“Oh yes,” she screamed as she shot him in the head. The boy’s arms fell to his side as he went limp. Blood and brain fluid pooled at the back of his head. Tomie blew Jason a kiss.

~~~~~~~~

Jason sat in a police interrogation room with two men, a suit wearing detective and uniformed officer. A tale as old as time, thought the detective. Young lover kills a rival in a fit of rage. Granted, the front porch thing was unique but there’s always something different even for crimes as cookie cutter as this one. The officer hated guys like this in high school, Mr Shit-Don’t-Stink golden boy who thought he could do and say anything and people would just believe it.

“You want us to believe that some girl came to your house just to fuck a guy and kill him on your porch,” said the uniformed police officer.

“I don’t want you to believe anything, that's what happened,” said Jason.

“How bout we try this one on for size. Your little side piece comes over with a boy toy and fucks him to make you jealous. It works, you come out with papa’s gun and pop him in the head mid act.” A knock came at the interrogation room door. A tall handsome man with a briefcase entered.

“I’m Mr Arthur’s lawyer, Doug Maxwell, and this conversation’s over.”


	11. Welcome Back

Jason sat on the other side of a sound proof glass panel wearing an orange jump suit. Jen couldn’t help feeling he looked like a criminal. She knew he wasn’t and must have been exhausted. The unrelenting media circus that popped up around a murder on the door step of Chesterfield’s golden boy had been nonstop. Videos of Jason in chains being ushered around splashed all over the television. Jen picked up the phone receiver on her side and Jason did the same. Jen was getting serious Watertown vibes but this time Jason was in jail and they still had a Tomie problem.

“When are you getting out,” asked Jen.

“The prosecutor has another twenty four hours to press charges, then my Arraignment. Mr Maxwell is confident I should get offered bail,” said Jason. Jason wasn’t confident of anything concerning Tomie. She seemed to have a way of making the worst outcomes a reality.

“Atleast you’ll be safe in there,” said Jen. She wished she could climb through the glass, hold him in her arms and comfort him. She felt so helpless on that side of the glass.

“Always looking for a silver lining,” said Jason.

~~~~~~~~

Patrolmen Christian hated working the reception desk. He joined the police department to go on exciting adventures, not direct civilians on what forms they needed. The officer vigorously tapped his phone’s screen as a woman in a smart pants suit approached the counter.

“I’m here,” said Emma the forensic scientist, “Christian, Are you playing that crap again?”

“Hey sis,” he said without looking up from his phone. Emma tapped a manila folder on the desk. “Is that the Arthur file? Do you think he did it.”

“I analyzed the bullet trajectory and blood splatter pattern and unless your boy was about a foot shorter and straddling that guy, it seems unlikely he could have made the shot,” said Emma.

A man with heavy black bags under his eyes and five o’clock shadow approached the desk in a blue formal gown bursting at the seams.

“Can I help you,” asked Christian.

“I shot the man in front of Jason’s house last night,” said the man, “I was jealous of the attention he was getting from Tomie so I talked William into going over his house. I tricked Jason into the garage while William stole his dad’s gun then I framed him for murder. Tomie didn’t have anything to do with this, I love her. I’d do anything for her.”

“Include lie,” asked Christian. The man lifted his arm up and arced it down quickly, a knife point flashed into the desk. Emma screamed as the police officer pulled his gun and buried two bullets into his chest.

~~~~~~~~

Jason sat by the window in his first period class. The other students whispered about him but at least saved him the indignity of approaching him with questions. Being around people again made him long to be alone. He had no idea how much of a spectacle he had become in his brief stint in jail. He knew the small town gossip mill must have been grinding like mad, but every news channel in the state was on fire with the story. Star athlete’s crazed stalker shot attacking police with a knife. The worst part of all, no mention of Tomie by the press.

“Hi, Jason,” said Tomie.

“What do you want,” he said. How easy would it be for him to wrap his hands around her dainty little neck, squeeze until her windpipe collapsed and she choked into non-existence. Could he really spend several minutes with his bare hands, nothing but her desperate eyes and his guilt racked thoughts. How could he even think about killing her like that, was he turning into the monster she had planned for him?

“No thank you, Tomie. You saved my life. I was wrong about you. God, men really are so impossibly selfish.” She slapped him then walked off.

~~~~~~~~

“Guess who’s back,” said Wendy. Jen and Jason watched Tomie walk by holding an orange cafeteria tray as her body guards chauffeured her to the table. A chubby boy walked up behind her, reached over her shoulder and shoved his hand into her blouse.

“My Goddess,” he said as he wrapped his other hand around the front of her pants.

Tomie jumped and shrieked, dropping the tray of food all over herself as she wriggled out of his grasp. “Get your god damn hands off me.” Tomie pushed the guy and he came at her again. Kyle grabbed the kid’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

“Kyle,” yelled coach Brady “Let go of him.” Kyle pushed the kid away and Coach Brady grabbed him by the arm. “You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, young man.”

~~~~~~~~

Verney hated Tomie. She used good men like Eugene, Robbie, Joe and Albert then threw them away like they were nothing. Men were little more than toys or birds in a cat’s jaw to her. Men that had once been good friends to her, men that she loved.

“I know what you are,” said Verney. The girl’s locker room dressed for gym class while keeping an eye on Verney and Tomie. “You’re a monster stealing all the boys for herself and destroying all the ones you can’t.”

“I know what you are,” said Tomie, “A fat loser who couldn’t even attract the worst dregs this redneck, hill billy junk yard had to offer. A tip, honey, jealousy doesn’t fix ugly”

Verney grabbed Tomie’s hair and pulled her to the ground, scatching at her face with her finger nails. Tomie screamed and the locker doors shook. The other girls jumped on Tomie, wailing on her body, scratching at the already blood streaked ribbons of flesh that were her cheeks. Verney ripped a chunk of hair out of her scalp. Tomie covered her face with her arms and screamed louder. The glass mirrors in the bathroom popped with cracks. The female gym teacher entered the locker room from her office.

“Girls stop,” she commanded the huddle of girls swiping at Tomie. They continued wailing and scratching. The teacher pulled Verney off and jumped on top of Tomie. The girls stopped hitting her.

“Get out, everyone get out.” The girls threw on their cloths and left the locker room. The teacher stood, covered in blood, Tomie’s face a shredded mess.

~~~~~~~~

Verney had been suspended for a week after attacking Tomie. Tomie disappeared again for another week to heal. Jason had been happy to see her go but feared for Verney, she didn’t seem to know what she was messing with. She knew of all the people Tomie was suspected of killing but still went after her.

“Welcome back, Ms Kawakami,” said Mr O’Leary as Tomie entered the room, her face and hair completely healed. She sat down at the desk next to Jason; the seat slide off the metal frame and Tomie flopped to the ground. Verney smiled at Jason. It might seem petty to him, but she was finally doing something to prove to everyone that Tomie was only human, that they can stand up to her.

~~~~~~~~

“No, please don’t, it hurts,” whimpered out of the science lab supply closet. “I said no.” Jason heard the faint sobbing of a woman. What the fuck, thought Jason. He opened the closet door to find Tomie cowering, tears running down her face from her blood shoot eyes. Kyle’s hand jammed up her skirt. Tomie tried to pull her skirt down. Jason felt a visceral animalistic anger at the abuse that conflicted with schadenfreude for Tomie.

“Help me,” she said in a meek voice. Jason flushed with pity, he wanted to ball up his fist and drive it through Kyle’s nose but yet he held it at his side and just stared. Why should he help, its Tomie he thought. Because its the right thing to do, came back another voice.

“This doesn’t concern you, Jason. Just walk away,” said Kyle.

“Please,” implored Tomie as Jason shut the door. Jason leaned against the door, heart racing. It was happening again.

~~~~~~~~

A barbie dangled from a nose attached to the coat hanger inside Tomie’s locker. She threw it behind her into the busy hallway.

“Hey watch it,” a boy called as he walked past. Tomie slammed her locker and shot a look at him that informed him he better not say another word.

She walked to the crowded staircase flanked by her four bodyguards. They pushed kids out of the way, so she could snake her way up to the top of the stairs. She didn’t see the leg stick out, the kick pushing her moving foot into her other leg. She toppled backwards down the stairs. The four men rushed after her. Verney looked at the dazed Tomie from the top of the stairs. How long until she got the message, thought Verney, that she was no longer welcome here. How many accidents, how much harassment and pain could she endure until the cost outweighed the benefits?

~~~~~~~~

Verney ran a box cutter across the front passenger tire of the black Sonata. A puff of air hit her face as the tire deflated. The black car sat on four flats. She tucked the box cutter into her sock and jogged back to the empty locker room. I took too long finding the car, she thought.

“Where did you go, miss Piggy,” asked Tomie behind her. She turned to see her leaning against a locker.

“Why do you care, Samara,” said Verney. Have fun waiting for a tow truck after school, she thought. She smiled at the thought of Tomie walking home, a speeding car splashing her with mud from some inexplicable puddle.

“I want to know what happened to these,” she threw a box of tampons on the ground at Verney’s feet.

“Oh, did the little boy finally get his period? Maybe now you’ll get some curves,” said Verney.

“Someone took these from my locker and soaked them in vinegar. A very stupid someone. The kind of stupid that thinks a person wouldn’t notice all the packages were open and the whole things smelled,” said Tomie.

“Ask one of your fifty boyfriends, maybe they did it,” said Verney.

“Maybe I’ll ask you, or Wendy, or Jen. Or anyone else stupid enough to associate with this Tomie Investigation Club,” said Tomie. Verney forgot how much Tomie knew about her and her friends.

“As if you’re so important,” said Verney as she shut her locker. “Toodles,” She walked past Tomie, out of the locker room.

~~~~~~~~

Verney loved clear, sunny late April days. She could walk hiking trails without drowning in sweat or panting like a dog. She walked briskly over the winding path, Albert struggling to keep up.

Verney found it hard to believe less than a year ago she was drawing Albert’s name in her diary next to hearts. She hoped they would be dating. She had even planned out how they would loose their virginity. By now, though, she had contented herself with the fact that she would enter college as a virgin. She remained hopeful that a mysterious new stranger would sweep her off her feet after a whirlwind romance fit for a Nicolas Sparks novel. All the same, she still loved Albert. He was a gentle soul. He wasn’t like Tomie’s other minions, he would never hurt anything. And for this reason she remained hopeful that he could be saved, brought back from the edge of what ever insanity Tomie had to offer.

“Common slow poke,” she said over her shoulder.

“Verney, please, are you trying to speed run the trail” he said and she stopped.

She sat on a tree stump and tapped the mace can in her pocket. “Why do you hang out with Tomie? Why fight with fifty guys over her attention when you could have all of someone else’s,” asked Verney. Albert leaned on his walking stick with a sour look on his face.

“Your mind buzzes with a warm crackling when shes around like being drunk. The more time you spend thinking about her the louder that buzzing gets until its the only thing you can experience any more.”

Verney reached into her pocket to hold onto the mace can. “That doesn’t sound healthy, Albert.”

“That feeling can force you to do anything to become a part of it. Then, when you’re left with nothing else, you realize that you wanted it to become a part of you,” said Albert.

“Lets go,” said Verney, “your totally lost aren’t you.” She stood from the stump.

~~~~~~~~

They continued through the woods until they reached a ranger station at the half way point.

“Can we stop here,” asked Albert.

“Why would we stop here,” asked Verney. Albert grabbed her arm, his fingers dug spikes into the soft flesh. She squealed in pain before spraying mace into his face. He wailed as he grabbed at his burning eyes. She ran down the path, huffing and panting. She sensed someone following her but didn’t dare look back. She didn’t know who it was but it felt much bigger and faster than Albert. The thudding steps quickly came up to her, a heavy body tackling her to the ground. Kyle twisted her arm behind her back as he lifted her.

“Get your hands off me,” she screamed. “Help, Help.” He dragged her through the cabin’s open door and slammed her face and chest into the hard wooden desktop. Tomie sat in a chair at the desk. “Get off of me you psycho,” she screamed.

“That won’t help you now,” said Tomie. Verney could hear feet shuffling as a crowd of people poured into the room. Tomie came up behind Verney and pulled down her shorts and panties before shoving two fingers into her vagina. Pain shot through Verney’s stomach as her muscles cramped. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run but fear held her down better than Kyle ever could. Fingers probed around her, her vagina screaming warnings.

“No, please don’t. It hurts,” said Verney. Tomie pulled her bloody fingers out and examined them.

“Oh, how cute its still a virgin. This is going to be quite the experience,” she said. Someone pinned each arm to the desk. A man aligned his hips with hers, the tip of a penis rubbed on her pussy lips. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Her college boyfriend was going to whisk her away to New York City during the winter recess. They were going to ride a horse drawn carriage through central park in a snow storm before heading back to the hotel room’s Jacuzzi tub to bath in lavender scented water. He was going to carry her to a rose petal covered bed with arms that were both strong and gentle then make toe curling love to her with the mastery of an artisan before they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“I’m sorry Verney,” whispered Albert as he entered her. He humped with an irregular and painful pistoning while the crowd waited their turns. She cried into the unforgiving surface.


	12. Heat

Principal Stevenson pulled into the student parking lot while it was still dark. A large flesh colored mass dangled on a rope from the light pole in the parking lot center. Normally he would think it was a senior prank but not this year. He stopped under the light. The naked body of a woman with a plastic bag over her head swung on a noose.

~~~~~~~~

The police closed off the entrance with caution tape while uniformed men walked around dropping placards by anything they found. Principal Stevenson stood by his parked car, holding a cigarette with one shaking hand and a phone with the other.

“Hey Shirley, its me. No everything isn’t ok. I need you to use the emergency system to inform everyone that school’s closed today. No, don’t say why. A student was found dead in the parking lot.” Detective Louis Burns approached Principal Stevenson. “I got to go, I’ll tell you later. Bye.” He closed his flip phone.

“Were you the one who found the body,” asked the officer.

“Yes, sir,” said the principal before taking a drag. This wasn’t the sort of thing that happened in Chesterfield. It was a family town known for corn mazes in the fall and a blue grass festival in the spring where the best chicken brought a blue ribbon and a 25 dollar gift certificate to Betsy's Live Bait and Feed.

“Sir, you can’t smoke on school grounds,” said the man.

“Sonny, I’ve been smoking here since before your pappy graduated. No way I’m stopping now. If ever a man needed a cigarette.” He took a drag but his hands still shook. Eugene, Elizabeth, Chloe, William and now Veronica. A third of the school has turned into some kind of Zombie and now this. In a previous year the biggest event on campus might have been Gerty the goat escaping the agriculture building to run around the parking lot. Nothing like this.

“Do you know who that student is,” asked the officer.

“Veronica Portland, Senior. Lives on Easton Street with her mom and little brother,” said Principle Stevenson.

“Anyone who would want to do something like that to her,” said Detective Burns.

“She was a good kid, and a quite kid. Just got suspended for a week for fighting with another student, Tomie Kawakami.”

“Is that the same Tomie that the Arthur boy claims shot a man on his porch,” asked Detective Burns.

“The same Tomie that got into a fight with Jason’s girlfriend Jennifer Wallace, the same one that he calls his creepy stalker. The same Tomie that seems to be at the center of every problem I’ve had this year.”

~~~~~~~~

What a dump, thought Detective Burns as he pulled his squad car into Tomie’s driveway. The yard was at once overgrown and sparse. He knocked from the side of the door. A young girl in a black bra and panties stood at the entrance.

“Can I help you,” she asked the Officer. She’s going to be one of these, thought Detective Burns, I should have brought Olivia with me.

“I‘m looking for the Kawakami residence, are you Tomie,” he asked her. She nodded then scratched her breast exposing her nipple to him.

“Are your parents here,” he asked looking around her into the filthy living room. A damaged carpet sat in an empty room. Detective Burns didn’t know what conclusions to draw from the fantastical claims coming out of Chesterfield High School’s faculty but poverty wasn’t one of them.

“I’m afraid they’re traveling for business at the moment. Is there something I can do for you,” asked Tomie.

“I need to talk to you about one of your classmates, Veronica Portland,” said Detective Burns.

“Do you want to come to my bedroom, we can talk there,” she said. Same song and dance he’s heard since his patrolman days when women would say or try anything to get out of a ticket. She was undeniably attractive but this shtick was amateur hour. Did it really work on anyone other than her high school boy toys?

“No, I’m not comfortable with that. I’ll wait here while you put on something a little more appropriate,” said Detective Burns. The officer paced between his cruiser and the front door. Jesus Christ, he thought. Tomie came bounding out of the house in her flannel pajamas and slippers. She grabbed him by the arm.

“Do you want to go for a walk officer.” The officer pulled his arm from her grasp.

“My name is Officer Burns and I would appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself. I’m a detective with the McKinley County sheriff's office, I’ve been assigned to investigate the untimely passing of one of your classmates, Veronica Portland.”

“Gee, mister, I’m afraid I don’t know a Veronica Portland,” said Tomie in a fake school girl pitch that made Officer Burns want to vomit.

“That's not what I hear, I heard she messed you up pretty good two weeks ago in the girl’s locker room,” said Officer Burns.

“You mean Verney? What happened to Verney,” asked Tomie.

“I was hopping you would tell me,” said the officer.

“I avoid that stupid cow like the plague. She jumped me out of jealousy. A stupid school yard scuffle, that’s all,” said Tomie.

“What’s your relationship with Jason Arthur,” asked Detective Burns.

“The other woman, for now,” said Tomie with a confidence that made Officer Burns believe she told him the truth for the first time.

~~~~~~~~

Officer Burns stood at a podium in front of the captain and two of his subordinates. He hated weekly update meetings, they felt like a relic from before email.

“The victim’s name is Veronica “Verney” Portland. Age 18. Senior at Chesterfield High School. Cause of Death, asphyxiation via plastic bag over head. Other physical conditions: vaginal tearing, defensive wounds, bruising from ligatures. The victim was found hanging via rope attached to her neck from a light pole in the Chesterfield High School parking lot. The medical examiner believes she died before being hung. Forensics has isolated seaman samples from 32 males.”

“Any suspects,” asked the captain.

“Currently no. We are investigating one person of interest, Tomie Kawakami, who recently had a physical altercation with Ms Portland. Tomie Kawakami was named as a person of interest in the murder of William Willard. She was also named as a person of interest in the murder of Daniel Wallace. We have been unable to establish contact with Ms Kawakami’s parents. We have requested her student profile from Chesterfield. We have been unable to identify the current owner of her residence. We are looking into her relationship with Veronica Portland, Jason Arthur and Jennifer Wallace, granddaughter of Daniel Wallace and girlfriend of Jason.”

~~~~~~~~

Mr Douglas sat in a $4,000 Italian suit at the head of a mahogany meeting table. Officer Burns sat across from Jason. “As a sign of good faith, my client has elected, against his attorney’s advice, to allow you to ask him questions pertaining to the answers provided to your written questions.”

“There’s no need for this defensiveness, I’m here as a friend this time,” said Officer Burns.

“There’s always a need,” said Mr Douglas, “I told you we would review your questions and return our answers in writing.”

“You tell quite the tale. Stalking, kidnapping, sexual assault, murder. But I keep coming back to one thing. Seems to me like this Tomie girl’s dating half the school, what’s her interest in you?”

“I don’t know,” said Jason althought he suspected he knew at least in part. Because she can’t have him? She’s jealous of Jen? He doesn’t want her? He’s some kind of status symbol? Maybe a combination of all these?

~~~~~~~~

Officer Burns sat in an unmarked police car wearing plain clothes. He pointed the telescopic lens of his digital camera at Tomie and Kyle as they sat in a Chinese Restaurant’s window. He snapped a picture and looked in the preview screen; Tomie’s face was distorted. He took another picture with the same problem. And another. “Piece of Junk,” he said. A skinny boy tapped on the opposite window. Officer Burns waved off the young man and went back to his camera. The boy knocked this time. Officer Burns waived his badge at the boy. He cut across Officer Burns’ field of view and entered the restaurant. Shit, he said to himself. The boy approached Tomie and pointed to his unmarked car. Officer Burns jumped into the driver’s seat and backed out of the spot.

~~~~~~~~

Two women sat in Officer Burns’ interrogation room. He recognized the taller blonde as Jen Wallace, his interview subject. The blue haired woman insisted on coming in with her. They cradled cups of hot cocoa. Christ its easy to forget these adults can be such little kids in some ways. The man hit a big red button on an archaic cassette recorder.

“Louis Burns interview with Jennifer Wallace. May 11th, time approximately 6pm. McKinley County Administration Building, Floor 4, Conference room C. What is your relationship with the deceased, Veronica Portland?”

“Verney and I were friends,” said Jen.

“When was the last time you saw Ms Portland?”

“Two days ago. She came over Jason’s house with Wendy. We talked about Tomie,” said Jen.

“Tomie Kawakami? Is this something you commonly did?”

~~~~~~~~

Officer Burns knew he wasn’t going to like the findings of a gang rape murder investigation regardless of what they were. Society had no place for the kinds of monsters that it would uncover. He had prepared himself to be disgusted but wasn’t prepared for the confusion. The evidence was scatter shot, seemingly random as though someone tried to make a crime mosaic out of different events by throwing them into a blender. At the center of it all was Tomie, that same little girl in her underwear bumbling her way through a failed seduction. Papers littered the top of his dining room table. He flipped through the recorded manuscript from his interview with Jen Wallace. His wife, Olivia, leaned against the kitchen door frame.

“Are you coming to bed soon, its 2am” she asked.

“Can I tell you what I think, and you can let me know how insane and unreasonable it is,” asked Louis. Olivia was also a detective with the McKinley County sheriff’s office and a damn fine one. Lou met her during evidence handling training. He was smitten immediately but she was less than thrilled with the prospect of dating another police officer. A solid year of persistence finally won her over, they’ve been married for almost 5 years.

“Sure, shoot,” said Olivia. They spent many nights chewing the fat over cases. This time it was his turn.

“A woman of unknown age and origin squats by herself in a run down trailer in Chesterfield. She forges documents to enroll into the school system where she amasses a huge following of devoted worshipers that would make the 1st Baptist church on Evergreen jealous. Six students form a group to investigate her only to have its members disappear or get murdered. The first member disappeared, I would assume shes dead and we just don’t know where. 1 was tortured and murdered with her family. One member was gang raped, murdered and hung in the school parking lot. One member was assaulted and had her Grandfather murdered. Another is claiming to be a victim of stalking, rape and had a person murdered on his door step.”

“What do you think happened,” she asked.

“I think Tomie is the leader of a gang that’s murdering people,” said Detective Burns.

“What can you prove,” asked Olivia.

“Not a god damn thing that matters,” he said. Olivia sat at the table and pulled the manila folder to herself.

“Can you put on a pot of coffee, dear,” she asked.

~~~~~~~~

Cars parked in the small church’s parking lot spilled onto the lawn. Officer Burns parked his cruiser just opposite the parking lot entrance. He pulled out a notebook and joted down all the license plates he could see. He exited his cruiser. He’ll claim to be following up on noise complaints or people parking on the church’s grass. He walked around the lot jotting down more license plate numbers. Chanting murmured out of the church.

He kneeled by the basement window. “Tomie, Tomie,” chanted a chorus of men sitting on the floor. Tomie sat on a high backed throne atop a stage. “We love you Tomie,” shouted one man. A cacophony of praise and adulation rose up. Officer Burns made out scattered words from the whirlwind of voices: “Goddess.” “Beloved.” “Worship.”

Tomie stood, raised her arms and said something Officer Burns couldn’t hear. The group stopped chanting and stood. Tomie spoke again, the group formed a circle and two shirtless boys entered. A skinny, tall one with a lanky build had hardly any muscle. Officer Burns couldn’t get a read on the strength of the short stocky kid through the fat. The skinny one put up his hands as though boxing and threw a jab into the face of the other boy. He shook off the punch and immediately took him to the ground. The fat boy straddled the other kid, wildly throwing punches into his face. He missed, slamming his fist into the hard concrete and let out a shrill cry. The bottom boy reached into the top one’s face and dug his fingers into the his eyes. He immediately fell to the side and pulled the boys hands off his face. He covered up his face with his hands and curled into a defensive position as the skinny one furiously kicked at him. Tomie sat on her throne, watching the display silently, emotionlessly.

~~~~~~~~

“Boys fighting for fun isn’t evidence of anything except that boys never change,” said the Captain. “These are some extraordinary claims, Lou, and extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof and you don’t have any.”

~~~~~~~~

“Mail time, Jen,” said Dr Arthur as he waggled a letter over his head. Jen grabbed the letter, the return address was for the school. She tore open the envelope and read:

Dear Jen,

I wish we could put this silly fued behind us and become friends. Please meet me at the Methodist Church on Friday at 8pm.

Love,

Tomie.

~~~~~~~~

“You’re crazy,” said Jason. “I can’t believe you’re actually considering this after she killed so many people. Do you think she just wants to have tea and gossip?” Jen knew its a trap. She knew Tomie couldn’t possibly want to talk or be friends. It was another bizarre irrational request in a pattern of increasingly erratic behavior. Her only hope for adult intervention was to get a smoking gun. Evidence that was so obvious and irrefutable that the authorities would need to do something about it. She would be safe about it and create a plan to get out of there before things got dangerous.

“No, of coarse not but I’m sick and tired of just hoping someone will swoop in and save me. I’ve got a plan,” said Jen.

~~~~~~~~

“Chesterfield Police Department, what’s your emergency,” said the Police dispatcher. Jason had a simple enough task, report Jen kidnapped and give them the address to the church.

“Hello, my name is Jason Arthur and I need to report a kidnapping. My Girlfriend, Jennifer Wallace is missing, she was kidnapped by Tomie Kawakami. I have a tracking app on my phone that says she is at the Methodist Church in Chesterfield” said Jason. His part was done, thought Jason. This plan seemed thin to him. The police in this area were notoriously slow to respond to reports of even the most serious crimes. Jen was taking a substantial gamble pinning her hopes on their timely response. Tomie could do a lot of damage before anyone came.

“Did she have a weapon,” asked the Dispatcher. Jason didn’t plan on answering questions and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“No, I mean yes, she had a weapon. I found a note that said shes meeting Tomie at the Methodist Church,” said Jason. Crap, thought Jason. Meeting Tomie wasn’t going to mean anything to this guy.

“Sir, this isn’t a kidnapping. You might not like the company your girlfriend keeps but you can’t report her kidnapped when she voluntarily meets someone.”

“You don’t understand,” the line went dead. Now what? She can’t just stay there hung out to dry. If he calls the police back they might just come arrest him. He could only think of one person who might be able to help. Jason entered his contacts and pushed call.

“Hello, Detective Louis Burns, who am I speaking with,” said Detective Burns.

“It’s Jason Arthur. I need help. I found a letter in Jen’s room from Tomie asking to meet tonight,” said Jason.

“And you think she would go to something like that,” asked Detective Burns.

“She did and now Jen’s in trouble and the stupid police department won’t do anything about it. Shes at the Methodist Church,” said Jason.

“The Methodist Church,” interrupted Detective Burns. Detective Burns jumped off the couch and ran to the door, grabbing his car keys out of a fruit bowl. His wife watched him disappear out the door.

~~~~~~~~

Jen and Wendy stood in the dark parking lot of the Methodist Church. Jen turned on the microphone to her phone and sliped it into her pocket running. She had scoped out the church the week before, attending service so they could draw a map of the room. Jen and Wendy created escape plans should something go sideways.

“Do you have it,” asked Jen. Wendy pulled a 9mm pistol out of her pocket.

A note in the front asked them to go to a door leading directly to the basement. Jen turned on her flash light and shined it into the window. She didn’t see anyone in the basement. Wendy held the door and checked behind them as Jen descended the stairs then flipped on a light switch. A small hallway led to two doors.

“In here,” Tomie called from the right one.

“Keep your back to the entrance and at the first sign of danger, flee,” said Jen. The door pulled out into the hallway. A standard deadbolt sat above the handle, they couldn’t lock them in from the outside. Tomie stood in the middle of a cavernous room in front of a theatrical medieval throne reproduction.

Kyle sat on the stage’s edge. Jen quickly inventoried the room: three closed doors, an oversized chair, windows several feet off the ground, florescent tube lighting in drop ceilings. She located the light switch by the entrance and flipped the light on and off.

“You planning on joining us,” asked Tomie.

“I’m not leaving this door,” shouted Jen. Tomie and Kyle moved forward. “That's close enough.” Tomie and Kyle stopped about ten feet from them.

“What’s he doing here,” asked Wendy. Kyle was her hands, without him she couldn’t do anything.

“You weren’t invited either,” said Tomie.

“Thats different, I’m a girl and he’s a gorilla that could snap our necks with his bare hands,” said Wendy.

“I don’t care,” said Tomie, “Go wait in the office for me.” Kyle walked to the door by the stage and disappeared.

“I wanted to ask Jason to the prom on Tuesday,” said Tomie, “but it seems like he thinks of me as the other woman.” Detective Burns pulled into the parking lot, the church and parking lot looked abandoned except for Jen’s red Jeep and a light coming from a basement window. Detective Burns rolled the car into park and jumped from the drivers seat. He walked to the lit basement window where Tomie, Jen and Wendy stood by the room entrance talking.

“Other woman,” interrupted Wendy. “He doesn’t think of you as anything, except a crazy bitch stalker.”

“There’s no need for that, we’re all friends here,” said Tomie. She smiled a fake, over the top contortion of her face.

“If I let you take Jason to the prom, then you’ll leave us alone,” asked Jen. Jen felt a wave of embarrassment that would even entertain the thought.

“I didn’t think an ugly, insignificant half wit like you would understand what I’m saying. I am not asking permission for anything. I don’t share. This current arrangement with Jason isn’t working out for us. Its funny, how some times problems just have simple solution. I kill you and end his distractions.”

A bullet screamed out of Wendy’s gun, tearing through Tomie’s shoulder. She screamed and flew to the ground. Men filed out of the three doors. Wendy shot at Kyle but missed, the bullet sailing into the chest of a scrawny kid holding a baseball bat. Jen opened the door behind them but it just thudded. She pushed futility at the door, it gave for a second then slammed shut.

“Shit, someone’s holding the door shut,” said Jen. Detective Burns ran to the side door and rushed down the stairs.

“I don’t have enough bullets for all these people.” Wendy shot into the crowd again, another boy fell onto his knees. The crowd closed in on them.

“Who the fuck are you,” said the boy. Detective Burns grabbed him by the collar and laid into his chin with a vicious right hook. The boy flew away from the door, falling lifelessly to the floor. Jen grabbed Wendy by the wrist and pulled her out the door as boys surged upon her. Her arm snapped tight in Jen’s grip ripping from her hand disappearing back through the door. The mass of boys stabbed at her, knives flashing down into her flesh.

“Run,” screamed Wendy. Officer Burns drew his gun and pushed past Jen into the room. A baseball bat swung around the corner into his face. His legs gave out underneath him as his body flew onto the ground, the pistol in his hand flying into the crowd. Jen ran up the stairs chased by the sound of cutting flesh. She scrambled into the running police car and drove off, stopping up the road when the church was no longer in view.

“Officer down, officer down,” she screamed into the radio.

“Who is this.” responded an angry male voice.

“Officer Burns is dead, and oh my god, Wendy too. The Methodist Church, oh god. Send help.”

~~~~~~~~

Flashing red and blue lights swirled across the face of the church. Jen sat in a patrol car wrapped in a blanket. A police officer listened to the recording from her phone. How stupid could she be, thought Jen. Her best friend was dead now too and for what, a recording that would probably raise more questions than answers.

“Can you walk me through the scene,” he asked.

Jen exited the vehicle still wrapped in the blanket. “I got a letter in the mail saying Tomie wanted to meet tonight at 8pm. We found a note on the front door saying to go to the side door.” She motioned to the front door but nothing was there.

Jen and the officer walked around to the side door. The other officers milled around the parking lot, not doing anything in particular. She descended the stairs to the basement and met an overpowering bleach odor. “We went in there,” she opened the door to find a completely empty hall with pristine floors. “This is where Tomie was and Wendy and I were attacked.” The officer stood at the door looking over the empty room.


	13. Prom

Jen, Jason and Detective Olivia Burns sat around a conference table in the McKinley County Administrative building. A thick manila folder, and cellphone in a plastic bag sat in front of the detective. Olivia held a trifolded piece of paper in gloved hands. He was only here for moral support, Jason told himself. Mr Maxwell would kill him if he knew he came to see the police without him.

“This is the note,” asked Olvia.

“Yes,” said Jen.

“My husband seemed quite impressed by you two, so I can only wonder what in god’s name possessed you to meet this woman,”asked Olivia.

“I wanted to record her saying something crazy so the police would finally do something about her,” said Jen.

“You wanted to record her? Is that why you brought a gun with you?” Jen and Jason said nothing. “I’ve listened to the tape over and over again, it sounds to me like Wendy shot first, not Tomie.” Jen thought that, since she was a victim too, Olivia Burns would be more open to knowing the truth about Tomie, that she might be relieved of the blindness clouding the adult’s vision.

“Maybe we should come back with Mr Maxwell,” said Jason.

“You saw the scene, does an innocent person clean the whole place up after? What the hell is Tomie even saying happened there,” Jen fumed.

“Nothing. She says nothing happened, there was no meeting and you’re making it all up,” said Olivia.

“And what do you believe,” asked Jason.

“I believe I have a missing husband, a half dozen missing students, toxic levels of bleach in a basement, a recording, a note, and a stray bullet hole in the church’s basement wall saying something most certainly happened.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it,” asked Jen.

“Do what,” she picked up the file and shook it, “This makes no god damn sense. None of it. You have to be able to convince a prosecutor, a grand jury, a jury and no one in their right mind could believe any of this. I feel like I need to be taken off the case just for believing any part of my husbands crazy conspiracy might be real.”

“We have something else that we want you to have,” said Jen handing Olivia a manila folder with Robbie’s camera, Chloe’s flyer, Jason’s Photo Album and copies of the evidence gathered by the Tomie Investigation Club. Olivia pulled out the contents, the bloody sweater picture sat on top.

~~~~~~~~

The Bushnel Justice Center occupied the abandoned King Elementary School building in Jonestown, Georgia. The sprawling complex contained a series of small rooms attached to hallways converging on a central landing area at the front entrance. The county spent serious money adding security cameras, high speed internet, a forensics lab, evidence storage, bullet proof glass, sound proofing, and new landscaping. So much that the Jonestown residents voted out the presiding sheriff and town manager. Despite the exorbitant remodel budget Olivia thought it still looked like a school.

Olivia played solitaire on her computer in a conference room waiting for a pencil necked administrator to return with the security video and case file she requested. Louis hadn’t contacted her in the three days since he disappeared and Jennifer Wallace was found with his car. She held little hope that he will just come waltzing back into her life.

A scare crow looking man in an oversized suit with a lollipop looking head came through the door holding a banker’s box sealed with tape and a clipboard. He placed the box on the table in front of her and handed her the clipboard. She signed the form and handed it back to the man. He pulled a DVD in a jewel case out of his pocket.

“I want to express to you the importance of not sharing the contents of this DVD with anyone. It contains incredibly sensitive information that would be damaging to Officer Clover’s and Bushnell’s reputation. I’m trusting that you will conduct yourself with the utmost discretion,” said the man. He handed her the DVD.

“Thank you,” said Detective Burns. He exited the room while Olivia popped the DVD into her laptop. A room lined with metal lockers like a high school locker room sat in frame. The lockers were numbered with padlocks and vents at the top. An overweight police officer entered from the bottom and walked to a locker on the right wall. He opened the pad lock and the door swung open towards the camera. He talked to the locker’s inside, Olivia can’t make out what he’s saying. He looked nervously towards the room entrance before reaching into the locker. He unholstered his revolver with his other hand, put the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. The muzzle and cylinder flashed with a puff of smoke and the man crumbled to the floor. The door swung a little and the frame froze. The video stayed frozen for about a minute before resuming again with blood pooled under the corpse’s head. Olivia fast forwarded the video until another man entered. She played the scene at regular speed while the man crouched over his body, took his pulse then talked into his shoulder mounted radio.

Olivia rewound the video to the man pulling out his gun and hit play. He pulled the trigger and his body fell to the ground. The locker swung a little and froze. She zoomed in on the locker door: four small finger tips held the door’s edge.

Olivia walked over to a phone by the entrance and punched in a four digit code.

“Hi, Melville, its Olivia. I’m going to need every surveillance video for evidence storage that covers the sweater’s locker when Officer Clover was on duty starting with the day the sweater entered evidence.”

~~~~~~~~

The first week’s disks had nothing on them that caught Olivia’s attention. Officers milled around the room putting things in and out of the lockers, marking items on check lists, filling in paper work. The kinds of mundane tasks they don’t showcase in police procedurals but seem to take up half your days. Officer Clover came into the bottom of the screen again, she put the tape back to normal speed. He opened a locker on the other side of the room when something caught his attention. He turned sharply towards the Tomie locker. He put his ear against it. He returned to the other locker, closed it and left through the bottom of the video.

Olivia switched to the next day. Officer Clover stood at the Tomie locker, talking. No one else in the room. He looked around anxiously and continued to talk. He turned his attention to the bottom of the video when another man walked into frame. He walked off with the other officer. Olivia switched the video again. Officer Clover sat with his back to the locker talking for hours. She switched the tape again. Officer Clover entered the frame carrying a white take out bag. He opened Tomie’s locker and put in the bag. Several hours later he reentered the locker to pull the bag out again.

Officer Clover stood at the top of the screen with an open locker. A full length mirror sat on the door’s interior. Officer Clover rummaged through the parcels in the locker, holding a clipboard. Something caught his attention from Tomie’s side. He walked over to her locker and opened the door. The video froze or several minutes before he shut the locker and it snapped back into functioning. Olivia rewound the video and played it again watching the open locker. Something appeared in the mirror when the video froze. She zoomed into the mirror, a naked girl with black hair and milky white skin stood in the reflection. Tomie thought Detective Burns.

~~~~~~~~

Chesterfield provided an option for two friends to buy prom tickets together who didn’t want to attend with a date. They sold a couple of packages like this every year but most students without dates simply didn’t attend. Principal Stevenson remembered the record setting year when five stag tickets were sold. This year they had twenty eight stag tickets, twenty six boy couples and two girl couples. Attendance for the prom was critically down. He thought of canceling the dance altogether with the strange plague of deaths and disappearances but decided it best to maintain a sense of normalcy. The first period bell rang. Principal Stevenson pushed the record button on his microphone.

“Good morning Chesterfield High School. Some students have expressed concerns about the status of tonight’s prom. I want to assure everyone that the prom will still be happening. I’ve been working with the School Board, PTA and Chesterfield Police Department to insure that everyone has a safe and fun evening at tonight's prom, ‘Tokyo Nightlife.’ The number of adult chaperons has been increased from four to six. The Chesterfield Police Department was kind enough to lend us four uniformed police officers who will be onsite through out the whole event. We will be setting up weapon screening stations at the main entrance and locking all other exits. Furthermore we are establishing a “no reentry” policy. Students who leave the dance will not be allowed to come back in. We have adopted a new, stricter zero tolerance policy for the possession of weapons expanding the list of prohibited weapons to include Pocket Knives, Box Cutters, Mace/Pepper spray, tasers, pellet and paintball guns. Your seventh period teacher will provide a comprehensive list of banned weapons. As always, Chesterfield Strong.”

~~~~~~~~

Students filed out of the school into the parking lot after the final bell. Am army of men in red polo shirts and black slacks handed out flyers that read “Tomie and Jason for Queen and King.” Banners reading “Tomie and Jason” hung from the light poll arms. White papers were tucked under the car’s windshield wipers. Jen took a flyer from a uniformed student. She clutched Jason’s arm and walked to his Jeep. Another student handed her a flyer, and another.

“Hey, whats that,” yelled a voice from the front entrance. Every uniformed boy pointed up to a shirtless man with TOMIE on his chest standing on a huge banner hanging off the school’s roof. He danced back and forth before taking a diver’s pose and jumping off the roof. He hurtled head first towards the concrete sidewalk below. The crowd gathered at the entrance scrambled out of the way. The boy landed head first into the sidewalk, his neck exploding like a bough struck by red lightning. The lifeless body bled all over the sidewalk, TOMIE AND JASON written on his back.

~~~~~~~~

The city repurposed a turn of the century, red brick store house into a VFW meeting hall. The black limo pulled into the line of ordinary cars dropping off students in mass market formal attire. Jen and Jason were alone in the stretch limo. Black and red banners hung off the building while red and black paper squares covered the windows. Black and red streamers hung from cords tied between the black caste iron lamp posts that dotted the parking lot. Police cars parked by the main entrance. Students lined up in front of gray plastic archways that beeped when they entered. A uniformed woman ran a paddle over students standing with their arms stretched out.

“Jesus,” said Jen, “Wendy would be turning over in her grave,” she teared up. Jason wiped them away.

“We don’t have to do this,” said Jason, “We can just leave, run away to Miami.”

“No,” said Jen, “I want to do this.” The driver put the car into park and exited the vehicle. Jen’s door opened. Jen took the hand that reached in, lifted her champagne dress off the floor and let the man guide her out of the car. Jason followed her out. The security wand caught on the sparkling sequins of her gown but she otherwise got through security unhampered.

Cheap red and black plastic covered tables sat at the entrance with black and red rose centerpieces. A Andy Wharhol-esque series of multicolored portraits of Tomie sat in a group on the wall. A portrait of the “Draw me like one of your French Girls” scene from Titanic where Tomie replaced Rose sat after that. Recreations of famous artwork staring Tomie covered the walls. Strobe lights swirled in flashes over a dance floor while a version of Mirai no Eve by Ali Project played. Two large thrones sat just beyond the dance floor. The throne labeled “Queen” was the one from the church basement.

Jason and Jen walked the room’s perimeter, looking at the art work. Disappointment racked Jen; she had been dreaming of her prom since grade school. Visions of a beautiful princess standing with her prince charming in an enchanted moment that would send her off into adulthood on a beautiful high note. They stopped at the Tomie version of Munch’s scream.

“Some of these aren’t that bad,” said Jason. The music stopped while men in black tuxedos with red shirts lined up in rows by the entrance. Robbie, in an ill fitting suit jacket, stood on the dance floor with a microphone.

“Welcome her highness, queen Tomie.” The men in tuxedos lifted long herald trumpets and blew a fan fair. The stunned audience watched in silence as two boys pulled open the double doors. Tomie entered in a flowing red debutante gown holding a bouquet of roses. A crystal tiara rested on her scalp. She entered the room at a measured pace, turning her hand in a royal wave. Tomie’s followers hooted and cheered as she passed. Jen and Jason stood in silence as she walked by. She made eye contact with Jen, huffed and turned up her nose.

~~~~~~~~

“Now ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, friends and foes, your votes are in, the result have been tabulated, winners picked,” said Robbie from the dance floor. “We had a close contest this year. Your runner ups, with 61 votes are Jennifer Wallace and Jason Arthur.” The crowd clapped. “Common up,” said Robbie as he waved them on toward the dance floor. They stood from their table and walked to Robbie, hand in hand. Jen and Jason lifted their joined hands into the air and took a bow. The crowd cheered again.

“Now the news we’ve all been waiting for, this year’s Queen and King of the Chesterfield High School Prom with 63 votes, Tomie Kawakami and Jason Arthur.” Robbie’s claps reverberated over the microphone. Tomie’s followers erupted into applause and shouts of “Queen Tomie, Queen Tomie.” The crowd parted as Tomie walked up to Jason. He dropped Jen’s hand and took both of her’s.

“Hey,” said Jen, “What are you doing, lets get out of here.”

Tomie nuzzled up to Jason, he leaned down to look her in the eyes. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear. She wrapped her arms around him and tilted her head back with her lips parted.

“No,” screamed Jen, “What do you think you’re doing?” She grabbed Jason by the arm but he pulled it away from her. Jason pressed his lips into Tomie’s, kissing her passionately. He held the back of her head as they kissed to the applause of the audience.

“No,” said Jen, much quieter this time as tears filled her eyes. “No,” she choked out, “not you too.” Jen broke down into hysterical sobs. She wiped her face with the sleave of her dress and ran through the crowd, out the front door. Jason didn’t look at her as she ran out, his focus entirely captured by Tomie’s lips.

~~~~~~~~

Jason held up Tomie’s hand, her other arm wrapped around his body, his other arm wrapped around her waist. She buried her head into his chest. Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers played over the dance floor.

“I feel so normal,” said Tomie as she swayed to the music.

“Nothing about this has been normal,” said Jason.

“I knew you would come around, eventually,” she said as she buried her face further into his chest. The song wound down.

“That's the last song of the evening folks,” said Robbie, “The men in blue say we gotta jet so its time to fly...” He continued talking but the microphone died in his hands and no one could hear him. The recessed LED lighting turned on, drowning the room in a bright, clean white light.

~~~~~~~~

Tomie leaned against Jason with her eyes closed, holding onto his arm as the Limo pulled into her dirt driveway.

“We’re here,” said Jason in a low, sweet voice as he gently nudged her.

“I know,” said Tomie, “I wasn’t sleeping.” The driver opened her door and helped her out. She held up her dress with both hands to keep it out of the mud. Jason opened the front door for her. “Let me slip into something a little more comfortable,” said Tomie as she disappeared into her bedroom. Jason went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The shelves were bare. He opened the pantry to find it empty.

“Do you have anything to drink,” he asked her.

“Just water from the sink,” answered Tomie. Tomie’s hunting knife sat on the sink’s counter. The water started off as a black sludge before air bubbles popped out and the water cleared to a medium brown. Tomie stood at the kitchen entrance completely naked.

“Silly boys, can’t ever take hints.” She walked to Jason and pulled on his tie, “Guess I’ll just have to unwrap my own pres…” The knife cut into her abdomen under her rib cage, piercing into the bottom of her lungs. She tried to scream but her lungs fill with fire. He pulled the blade out. Tomie reached up to protect her face with her hands. The knife flashed down into her hands, rending flesh and cartilage, fingers detached from the joints in a spray of blood. He brought the knife down again on her shoulder. Again on her neck. Blood poured from the punctures. He stabs into her ribs, the tip of the blade breaking off in the cartilage between bones. He brought the tipless blade down, smashing her rib cage like it was a hammer. Ribs snapped as flesh rended. Tomie slumped to the ground as Jason got on his knees. He stabbed down into the pulpy, broken mess of her rib cage again and again and again until the blade broke from the handle and Tomie’s dead eyes stared blankly.

He picked up the fingers and threw Tomie’s corpse over his shoulder. He exited the kitchen door and walked into the dead corn field. Jen stood in the field’s center, her champagne dress torn and covered in dirt. Jason tossed Tomie’s body and fingers into the grave. Jen poured a gasoline can into the hole and incinerated the lifeless body.


	14. House Party

Dr Arthur read the newspaper during breakfast; the headline on the first page said “Field of Horrors.” Noise from the living room TV drifted into the dining room. Jason was relieved that Tomie and her home were finally receiving some attention.

“Was this the same Tomie girl you had those troubles with, Jason,” asked Dr Arthur while he read the paper. Jason’s dad loved playing down the severity of just about everything. He referred to the fires that ravaged half the pacific states as that forest fire.

“Yes,” said Jason, “when you put it like that, it almost doesn’t sound like she was trying to kill us.” He peered around the paper then went back to reading. Jason walked to the living room where Jen layed on the couch watching the news. He lifted her legs, sat, and put them on his lap. Tomie’s death lifted the poisonous cloud from the town of Chesterfield. Everyone seemed so much happier, especially the fatigued Tomie zombies. Jason’s friends were returning to normal. Jen tried acting happy, but Jason knew she was still down; most of her friends weren’t as lucky as his.

Detective Olivia Burns stood at a podium covered in black microphones affixed with different station call letters.

“We received an anonymous tip yesterday stating that a missing area teen was buried at the residence behind me. We uncovered three different burial sites on the property. One contained the badly decomposed body of a teenage female, another contained the charred skeleton of a person believed to have been a human female, and the third was a mass grave containing the bodies of six teenage males, one teenage female and my husband, Detective Louis Burns. At this point in time we cannot release the identity of any of the victims until we notify the next of kin.” Detective Burns held up an artist’s sketch of Tomie, “We’re asking anyone who has seen the resident of this home, Tomie Kawakami, to please call the McKinley County Sheriff’s Office.”

“Do you think we should have told her,” asked Jen. Several weeks had past since Tomie’s death and the story had yet to break. Jason was optimistic that it was finally over but a gnawing doubt still held sway over her. She talked Jason into taking the risk of calling Olivia Burns and telling her everything. Thank god she was willing to work with them.

~~~~~~~~

“J-man, whats going on,” a tall man in a letterman jacket approached Jason as he sat on the bench press daydreaming. The change was most notable in Jon. He barely did more than stare into the abyss and drool on himself before Tomie was killed. He’s regained his color and conducted himself with an energy Jason hadn’t seen in almost a year.

“Counting down the minutes to freedom,” said Jason, “Can you help me out here, Jon?”

“Sure thing,” said Jon. Jason laid down and lifted the bar.

“Miami, huh, that’s huge. Our little Jason’s going to be in the NFL one day,” Jason struggled to bring the bar up in the eleventh rep but pushed through. He brought the bar down for a twelfth rep but struggled to lift it off his chest. Jon helped him rerack the weights.

“Any plans for tonight,” said Jon.

“Probably just hang around home with the old lady again,” said Jason.

“Jesus Christ you’re too young to be in an old married couple. The team’s going to have a little get together. A final farewell to this year of misery. Do you want in,” asked Jon.

“Sure,” said Jason, “It’s nice to see you back to normal again.”

“Cool, I’ll pick you up at 7:30. What do you mean “normal again” you were the one acting weird,” said Jon.

~~~~~~~~

Jon’s black Sonata pulled up to a run down house on a deserted country lane. The setting sun’s embers burned the horizon’s edges. Jason took out his phone and sent a message to Jen “We’re here.”

“Where’s everyone,” asked Jason as he got out.

“Not here,” said Jon, “I just parked here because we can’t park where we’re going.” Jon walked behind the house to a field of green corn stalks. Jason hesitated at the field’s edge but entered when he could no longer see Jon’s path rustling the corn’s top. They emerged from the cornfield behind a large building with a steeple and bell tower.

“What is this place,” asked Jason. Why had Jon brought him to a church? Why couldn’t they park in front of the church and where was everyone. Tomie was dead, he did it with his own hands. They burned her corpse. There was no evidence anywhere that she had returned. All of the Tomie zombies were slowly unwinding their morbid inanimation. So why did this feel so wrong.

“It’s a church, dumb ass,” said Jon as he opened the side door.

“Why are we here,” asked Jason.

“Because its creepy and abandoned and cool,” said Jon. Was it really as simple as that, did the guys just think it was cool to hang out in a crime scene?

They descended the stairs to the small hallway with two doors. Jon held open a door. Jason walked into the room to see a mass of men sitting on the floor. The two thrones from prom sat on a stage while alter candles burned all around. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Tomie,” chanted the crowd. “Tomie,” came the next refrain louder. Jason turned to the door but Jon was gone. He tried the handle but it wouldn’t turn. “Tomie” the crowd screamed. Jason pulled out his cell phone. “Tomie, Tomie, Tomie,” the crowd was in hysterics when Tomie walked onto the stage. Jason kicked the door but it wouldn’t budge. “Tomie,” screamed the crowd.

“Get him,” Tomie instructed the crowd. The followers jumped to their feet as if of one mind and rushed Jason, He dropped his cell phone and threw a punch at the first person who reached him, connecting with his chin. He kicked at another. There was simply too many people. Hands grabbed at his arms and legs, a heavy force connected with his stomach and he flew onto his back. A pile of people laid on him.

~~~~~~~~

Jen felt dread at her ringing cell phone. She had been playing the worse case scenarios over in her head while trying to convince herself that it was over. Visions of Tomie sitting on his corpse peeling off his flesh with her hunting knife, his body tied to a tree, his throat spewing red liquid down the front of his shirt. Followers beating him to death. She shook her head, how can that be, hes calling her right now.

“Hey honey, whats up,” said Jen picking up the phone.

“Tomie, Tomie Tomie,” chanted through the line.

“Oh God,” said Jen. The cellphone crashed to the ground and the line went dead. It’s happening, she thought. They have him and they are finally going to kill him. Jen opened her location tracking app and clicked on Jason’s profile. Last known location: A blue marker sat under a cross saying “Methodist.”

Jen jumped into her recent contacts and clicked Olivia’s name.

“Hi, Jen,” said Detective Burns, “For what do I owe the pleasure.” Detective Burns wasn’t happy to see Jen call her. Olivia appreciated the closure that came with knowing what happened to her husband but she was now complicit in the murder of Tomie. She had an understanding that they wouldn’t call her, they wouldn’t ever talk about this again with her or anyone.

“She’s back, and she has Jason.”

~~~~~~~~

Zip ties held Jason’s hands behind his back to a metal pipe attached to an oil tank. A washer and dryer sat next to a slop sink in the room’s corner. A metal vent ran from the back of the drier to an opening in an over sized ground level window. This is a familiar song, he thought. Except this time he wasn’t going to let her have her way with him, even if it meant certain death.

“Are you going to behave now,” asked Tomie.

“Do I have a choice,” asked Jason.

“You’ve always had a choice,” said Tomie. She sat on the ground with her back to the wall on Jason’s right. “Why couldn’t you just love me, like everyone else.”

“Why couldn’t you just be happy with the love of everyone else,” asked Jason.

“That’s not love, that’s misery,” said Tomie. “I thought after we made love that you would come to your senses.”

“You’re sick Tomie. Can’t you take a fucking clue? I killed you,” he said as Jen’s face appeared at the window. The call must have gone through, thought Jason. She was supposed to call the police, not come here. He didn’t want to be responsible for her death as well.

“We all make mistakes,” said Tomie. Jen shook the locked window trying to open it. Jen examined the window, running her hand over the plate holding the vent to window pane. She fingered a screw in the corner. “I’m willing to forgive you, if you want to give us another try.”

“There is no us, you delusional bat shit insane psychopath,” said Jason. Jen ran to her car and took a screw driver from the emergency kit in the trunk then returned to the window. If she removed the plate then the vent might detach and she could reach in and unlock the window. How could she do this without alerting Tomie of her presence.

“If we can’t make a beautiful life together then lets make a death the poets will sing into eternity,” said Tomie. Jen removed one of the screws on the dryer vent plate. Tomie crawled over to Jason and reached for his jean’s zipper. She flew backwards when he kicked her.

“Stay away from me,” said Jason.

She sat up. “Why would you do that,” she asked. She pulled out a hunting knife and approached him again. He kicked at her when she got close and she jumped back. She approached again, he kicked again.

“Oh God, Jason,” she screamed.

“What’s going on in there,” asked Kyle banging on the door.

“Tomie are you ok,” asked another voice. Oh god, she’s going to shake up that nest of bees and let them in here thought Jason.

“Oh God yes,” Tomie screamed in her fake porn voice. Jen removed the final screw from the plate and pulled on the vent but nothing happened. She pushed it and it had a little give but didn’t move. She jammed the screw driver between the plate and the vent and tried to pry it out. The vent loosened some but didn’t come out.

“He’s not worthy,” yelled another voice. The banging on the door intensified. “What are you doing slut,” screamed another.

“They’ll kill us both, when I open that door. Two lovers torn apart by jealousy,” said Tomie. “Oh, I’m coming yes,” she screamed.

“Whore.” The pounding on the door turned frantic. “You fucking slut.” The angry slurs melded into a crowd’s indiscernible wrath.

Jen watched Jason from the window. He looked up at her and she mouthed, distract her. Could she be stupid enough to fall for it a second time, thought Jason. No, maybe stupid wasn’t the right word. Desperate?

“If I’m going to die,” said Jason, “Maybe we could just have some fun before.”

“I knew you would come around,” said Tomie as she slipped her panties off. She pulled her skirt up as she straddled Jason. “Oh God Jason, Again? You animal,” Jason leaned forward as she reached into his crotch and rubbed him over his jeans.

“Oh god, Tomie,” he yelled. “Kiss me.” She buried her face into Jason’s as Jen kicked the drier plate and the vent clanked on the floor.

“I think they might be trying to break the door down,” said Tomie.

“Lets give them a show then,” said Jason. Jen reached in through the vent hole and unlocked the window. The window slid open and she dropped onto the drier top. Tomie struggled to undo Jason’s belt with just one hand.

“Jesus Christ, what are you waiting for,” he said. She put the knife down and grabbed his belt with both hands. Jen dragged Tomie off Jason by the hair.

A surprised Tomie shrieked in pain then a renewed pounding came at the door. Jen bashed Tomie’s head into the ground again and again. A stunned Tomie just cried. The pounding on the door stopped followed by an ear splitting crash as the door bent in on the frame. Jen ran over to Jason and picked up the knife.

“Move and you’re dead,” said Jen pointing the knife at Tomie.

“We’re already dead,” said Tomie. Jen cut the zip ties holding Jason’s wrists while another heavy thud pounded the door. The door frame cracked, the metal hinges squealed. They ran for the drier. A final crack tore the door from its hinges. Jen pulled herself out of the window while Jason held it open.

A stream of men flowed into the room lead by Robbie. He pounced on Tomie, sinking his teeth into the nape of her neck. Tomie screamed and the window rattled. Kyle kicked Robbie’s head and he tore flesh out. Blood shot out of the hole. Another boy bit down on her arm. Another bit off a finger. Kyle fruitlessly tried to ward off the other men but was soon trampled under the mass. Jason pulled himself out of the window. A shock wave poured out with Tomie’s screams, shattering the windows. The Earth beneath the couple’s feet shook. Hands grabbed at Tomie tearing cloth and flesh. A boy tore off her nipple with his teeth. Teeth ripped off her nose. Tomie looked up at Jason and Jen, holding up a fingerless, bloody stump as if Jason could reach down and pull her out. A scream welled up like a steam whistle. The oil tank ruptured, filling the ground with diesel. The screams intensified. Jen felt like she was going to pass out and staggered away from the window. Jason put his arm around her and they ran away from the building. A loud snap cracked in the building’s center as it came down into the foundation. The screaming stopped. A black smoke rose out of the fallen structure as flames engulfed it. The wail of sirens approached from the distance.

~~~~~~~~

The nightmares came every night. A knife pressed against his throat. His breathing stressed. His heart thumped in his chest. Blood everywhere, dead bodies everywhere. The smell of cooking flesh. He panicked, he couldn’t breath. A faceless ghost rode on top of him. He tossed and turned. The church basement window. The horrible disfigured face with its imploring eyes reached up for his help and he couldn’t. He shot up, disoriented in a dark room, Jen laying next to him.

She cuddled up to him. “I’ll protect you,” she whispered. He wrapped his arm around her but couldn’t fall asleep. Visions of a beautiful monster driving a moving van down an unlit dirt road haunted him.


End file.
